DAMON
by vlwillis
Summary: A 12 year old demon child explodes into the lives of White Collar. He believes Neal was involved in his mother's murder. Where does he come from and why? Warning: Contains foul language by a child, sorry, but he's a street kid... GEN
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** White Collar belongs to USA Network and Jeff Eastin.

DAMON (1)

The kid was dirty. He smelled like the dirty alleys he lived in, and the dumpsters he sometimes slept behind, and occasionally dug through when he couldn't find a vendor not guarding his wares, or a pocket safe to pick. He had dark brown, almost black wavy hair which hadn't seen a barber in a while or a comb too often, for that matter. Actually, he didn't look that different from the dozens of street kids living under the radar in the back streets and alleys of New York City. He was too skinny, even for his slight 12 year old frame; blue jeans, t-shirt. A pretty non-descript homeless kid, except for his eyes…. His eyes were a dark blue; if you took the time to notice the color, but that's not what you saw when you looked in them. His eyes were old for his age, dark, deep, wild, they had seen something that took the light from them.

***WC***

Damon was scared. He was entering the den of the enemy and did not know if he would make it back out. But he had to go, he had to know. He had travelled hundreds of miles to reach this point. It had taken months; it was not easy for a kid that does even look as old as his meager 12 years, to travel around the country. But he was here now, he had to plan this right, he had to know. He did not care as much about escaping as he did about the knowing. He had to know why.

***WC***

It was a slow day at the White Collar unit of the FBI. Lots of tedious boring crimes to investigate, as always, but nothing eminent, nothing exciting going on in their crime genre. Peter, Neal and Jones were in the conference room. Diana had gone downstairs to get coffee for her and Peter, and was halfway back up the steps when the kid bumped into her on his way upstairs. She managed to save most of the coffee as the kid rushed on up and into the conference room, something big and black in his hands…. What? She set the cups down on the steps and checked. The kid took her weapon! She rushed up after him.

Peter and Jones were kicked back in their chairs, just relaxing. Neal was leaning against the wall in the back corner, bored and restless. There was no reason for him to be wasting his time there, with no crimes to consult on. But he knew Peter made him come in anyway, just because he could! If Peter got bored, he always had Neal to pick on to fill in the time. It wasn't fair! But suddenly, a 12 year old demon spawn was in the room, and boredom became a memory.

The kid sprinted by Peter and Jones and ran straight to Neal, shakily waving the gun in Neal's face and screaming, "Why did you kill my mother?"

Peter and Jones jumped out of their seats, just as Diana ran in the door, "He took my weapon!"

The kid swung the gun towards the agents barely able to hold the weapon up, and slowed any counter moves as they ducked to avoid a possible accidental discharge. At that time he pointed the weapon back toward Neal, "Tell me! Why did you kill my mother!"

Neal, hands up in front of him; like they could stop the bullet, stuttered, "I didn't kill anybody!"

Peter observed the kid and the weapon, he saw the safety was still on, but the kid's thumb kept fumbling around it. Hell, he'd have to move now, before the kid figured out how to work the lever.

Just before Peter had time to act, the kid sent the weapon spinning down the table, safety cache down. Peter couldn't tell if it the safety was on or off. He decided to let Jones and Diana deal with the weapon, he lunged for the kid. But the kid was lunging for Neal and hit him full force with a head bunt in the breadbasket! Neal doubled over gasping for air.

Peter grabbed the kid, struggling and fighting like a wild cat. Damn but he was light, there wasn't much to this kid. He body slammed him into a chair, a little gentler then he normally would, after all he was just a kid….and held him there while everyone calmed, a little, and Neal caught his breath. Peter waved Jones over and indicated he was to take over guard duty,

"Keep him in the chair" he growled.

Diana piped up "Let me do it, Boss. I'll keep there."

"No, Diana, he took your weapon, you'll hurt him"

"Boss, just give me half a chance and I'll teach him not to touch my weapon again" She sounded like a panther ready to strike.

Peter glanced around, insuring all was secure, then sat down, facing the kid. He took a deep breath, then addressed the troublemaker,

"I am Special Agent Burke. These are Agents Jones and Berrigan." He pointed to each, "The one you tried to shoot is Neal, but I assume you know that. Now, you need to explain yourself, let's start with your name."

The kid just stared back at him with those cold, dark, wild eyes. Peter didn't do kids well, but he was not looking into the eyes of a child. This one was hard to read.

"Better give me your side of the story before I call CPS or the juvenile authorities and just have you hauled away." Was that a flicker? Fear? No answer.

He played his card, "Diana, make the call"

The kid exploded. "No, mother-fucker! You have me now! Why do you want to send me away? So you can kill more innocent people?"

He was right, Peter waved for Diana to wait. "Then you better start explaining yourself right now."

The kid pointed to Neal, "That asshole sent in the FBI to kill my mother. I just want to know why"

Neal starting stumbling out denials, but the kid stared at him and he shut up. Neal thought he had hard eyes for a kid.

Peter scrutinized him. What was going on in this kid's head?

"Number one: Neal would not have anyone killed, not in his nature. Number two: No agent would kill for Neal. Trust me, he doesn't have that kind of power around here. Why do you think the FBI was involved?"

The kid just glared at him.

"Boy, you charged into an FBI office, stole an agent's weapon, and then threatened federal agents with it. You committed several felonies today. And then you blame the FBI. I think you assume that we know what you are talking about, but we have no clue. You better give me the story, from the beginning, and fast before I have you hauled off in chains!"

The kid glared at Peter and then finally broke his stare. He looked around, the wildness overcoming his eyes. Now they reminded Peter of a trapped rabbit, ready to bolt.

"Boy, look at me. Talk. Tell me your story, maybe I can help."

The kid let out a short bark of a laugh, one with no mirth in it. "You stupid fuck head! How can you help? People die around me."

Peter scowled at him, "Please watch your language. There is a lady present."

The kid stared back, with those hard, cold eyes, "Where?"

Oh boy, Peter thought, if Diana wasn't pissed off enough about the gun, she was going to be now.

"Boy, talk." Peter was getting impatient, so he used as much firmness as he could in his voice without scaring the kid, he hoped.

The kid's body gave an almost imperceptible slump. Peter observed it, good he was giving in.

"I'm listening."

Finally, the boy started talking.

"They rang the doorbell, and she went to answer. Was in the closet and heard them say they were from the FBI. Heard her say something, figured she was asking to see their ID. She was from the east somewhere so she was very careful about those kinds of things. Slipped deeper into the closet and pulled door part way shut, but could still see out. Stayed back in the shadows. Figured if they saw a kid, they would make him leave, you know, FBI is adult stuff. Was curious so stayed hidden so could listen. She let them in. After talking a bit, one guy suddenly got real mean and demanded, "Where is Neal Caffrey's bastard son?"

With that statement, the kid looked up to see everyone's reaction. Neal looked shocked and started protesting, denied ever having any children. Agent Burke looked stunned and the female agent looked amused. But the kid saw that they did not know about him. They could not be involved. The killers knew about him.

Peter studied the kid's face, it was too dirty to make out any clear features, and his hair was oily and plastered around his face with God knows what stuck in it. He couldn't make out any resemblances. Peter turned to Neal. "We'll clear that up later, let him finish his story."

The kid went on with his account, "She got defensive. No one was supposed to know about Neal. No one was supposed to know Neal was my… my…" He went on, "She didn't answer. He got meaner, 'Where is the Caffrey bastard?' She said she didn't know what he was talking about, then there was a loud… a loud…, and…. and…." The kid was starting to panic.

Peter talked calmly, trying to relax the kid, "Did you see the man?"

But the boy was frantic, "No! Didn't see anything, it's all black… black… don't remember..."

Peter's voice became even calmer, gentler; "Tell me the next thing you do remember."

The boy tried to calm down, to focus, "Was in the closet, somehow the door was shut. Heard them talking, 'Search the house, find the bastard!' There was a lose wall paneling in the closet, the landlord kept putting off fixing it. Slipped in behind it. Was scared, didn't want to be found. Used the nails sticking through to hold it tight to the wall."

Peter was fairly impressed "You hid in the wall? How long did you stay there?"

The boy looked up with those eyes, "A lifetime."

Peter gently prodded, "Go on."

"Heard them searching the house, heard them open the closet door, but they didn't see the lose paneling. They said something about searching the town and the noises stopped. It got real quiet".

Peter inquired on, "Did you hear them say any names, besides Neal's?"

The boy thought a minute. "No, no names, the guy said "Get those; he might want them" but no names."

"Get what?"

"Don't know."

Peter urged for more, "Go on."

"After awhile, it was quiet for a long time, lost hold of the nails and panel fell forward and made some noise. Listened, but guess they were gone, no one heard. Got out of the wall and into the closet. Tried to open door once but could only open a little. Something was blocking it."

"What was blocking the door?"

"Don't know. Black..."

Peter changed tracks, "How long did you stay in the closet?"

The kid's eyes were far away, "Don't know. Forever. Don't remember leaving. Everything was getting foggy"

"What do you mean 'foggy'?"

"Memories quit being clear. They became like a fog. Sometimes things came out of the fog, but most times it was just fog. Thick fog."

Peter struggled to keep the kid focused, "What is the next thing you do remember?"

The kid stumbled with his thoughts, "People came in and out of fog. Had white hats. Not bad people, but faces not clear. Then went to, maybe, stay with some people. Introduced as Dr and Dr, think, still foggy. Maybe others there. Not sure. Maybe other kids. Don't know. Foggy. Was out back, taking out trash? Was going back in and doorbell rang." He looked up, his eyes cleared, "The fog left. Heard that same voice, saying from FBI, heard lady ask for credentials. Heard her invite them in….."

The boy's eyes returned to their original deep, dark state. "Started running. Heard a couple loud sounds, like gunshot, behind, don't know, kept running. Been on own since then."

Peter sat and observed the boy. He didn't know if he believed this wild ass story or not. But his eyes… his eyes…they have seen something.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** White Collar belongs to USA Network and Jeff Eastin.

DAMON (2)

*** Peter sat and looked at the boy. Didn't know if he believed this wild ass story or not. But his eyes… they have seen something.***

The kid turned his glare toward Neal and reached for his pocket, Jones tightened his grip to stop him.

The kid snarled, "Chill fuck head! If I had a weapon, I wouldn't have stolen hers!" as he pulled out a faded old picture of a young couple and placed it on the table.

Neal contemplated at the photo and then slowly picked it up. "Sue Ann Evans. I remember her." He looked at the boy, "Don't tell me she's your mother."

The kid glowered at him, "Not under that name. She changed her name to hide from you."

Neal grimaced, "Well, that's not her real name either. That was my first fake ID, it was pretty good too. She said she needed to hide from someone else…" He tossed the picture back down. "But no, no way, she was on birth control. I checked every day to make sure she didn't miss any. Nice try kid."

Damon replied sarcastically, "Sugar pills."

Neal paled, "What?"

"Sugar pills you stupid shit head. She switched the real pills with sugar pills. She wanted 'your' kid." He added venom to the word 'your'.

Neal was getting nervous. "Why would she do that? Why didn't she tell me? And how do you know what she did? Heck, I was only about seventeen when I dated her!"

Damon glared at Neal; his dark eyes filled with… hate? "She said you were a fucking free spirit that should not be caged. Knowing about me you would either stay, and be caged and unhappy, or leave, with singed wings, and not be the fucking Freebird you were born to be. She wanted a part of you, so she got knocked-up with me."

Peter was watching this exchange, somewhat amused, except for the cussing, but he didn't think turning the boy over his knee and giving him a much needed walloping was considered a proper interrogation technique. He asked and got the kids date of birth, then looked back at Neal. He saw the math and the realization dawning in Neal's eyes. He smiled,

"Congratulations, Neal, you have a son!"

The boy's eyes suddenly went black. "Oh no he doesn't! He is just the fucking sperm donor! He is not my fucking father!"

Everyone looked at the kid, shocked. Bringing Peter back to the dilemma at hand, what were they going to do with this kid?

The kid observed him and saw the question on his face, "Let me go. I was wrong, you are not her killers. Let me go and you won't hear from me again."

Peter sighed, wishing it was that easy. "Can't do that kid"

The kid looked desperate "Listen, people die around me. I don't know why, I thought you wanted me so you could use me to recapture Neal or something, then I saw you two together and I thought Neal found out about me and wanted custody. But now I see neither one of you even knew I existed! But, someone in the FBI is looking for me! They have access to records, they knew about the doctors. Where ever you send me, they can find me! They kill innocent people! I don't want any more dying because of me! I will run, CPS can't hold me, and if you lock me up, well, I'll find a way out…. Let me go!"

Jones responded, "We could put him in a safe house…"

Neal started tugging on Peter's arm… "Peter, can I talk to you, in private?"

Peter didn't like that. Whatever Neal had in mind would not be good. Peter looked at the boy. "I don't even know your name…"

Those cold dark eyes…. "Damon"

"Damon what?

His eyes got even colder… "Just Damon"

Peter reluctantly got up to hear what he knew he would regret from Neal. "Jones, keep him in that seat, Diana, if he gets by Jones…." Now why did he think that little kid could get away from two of his best agents?

"I'll stop him, Boss"

"Don't break any bones, Diana!"

"Aww, Boss, you spoil all my fun!"

***WC***

Peter and Neal left the conference room and stepped just out of sight. "Ok Neal, what is it I'm going to regret hearing out of you?"

"Peter, what if he is telling the truth? What if agents are looking for him? Maybe... Maybe someone wants to use him to get to me? Maybe to get the music box? Maybe Fowler has something to do with this?"

"You mean, 'what if he is your son'?"

"Yea, that too. Peter, at least we need time to check out his story. If you send him away, I don't think he's lying about disappearing and I'll never see him again. Peter, if there are dirty agents, don't you want to know?" Neal put on his best pleading look.

Peter thought a minute. What if Fowler was involved, he definitely had access to whatever files he wanted. "OK, I agree with all that, but what do we do with him? He's a runaway. People are looking for him."

"Yea, killers."

Peter sighed, "I guess we could put him in a safe house for a couple days, while we check out his story"

"Peter, he's just a kid! You can't keep him in a safe house!"

"I know I'm going to regret asking this…. What do you suggest I do with him, Neal?

Neal put on his most charming smile, "Take him home with you."

"No! Neal, have you looked at him! He has gone feral! What makes you think he's going to stay with me? He'll run first chance he gets! And not sure if he won't try to kill us in our sleep…." Peter shook his head, "Of all the things you have asked me to do for you, this is one of the worst."

"Peter, I know Sue Ann. I guarantee he did not act like that when he lived with her. She would have brought him up very well behaved. And, she would have taught him the meaning of a promise."

Peter glowered at Neal, incredulous, "A promise?"

"Yes! She always said the measure of a man was how he kept his word. A promise was sacred to her. Binding. She would have raised Damon that way. Make him promise not to run." He hesitated, then added "Or kill you in your sleep…"

"And what about any promises you made her?" Peter asked sarcastically.

"That's just it, Peter. She wouldn't let me make any promises. She said never make a promise you can't keep! Promises were sacred to her. Damon would have been raised that way. And, oh yea, promises must be stated out loud to count."

Peter shook his head, "I think he'll be better off in safe house with two agents to keep an eye on him."

Neal started to protest, but Peter put a stop to it.

While Peter and Neal were having their private chatter, Damon was watching the other two agents. They were starting to relax, good. He acted bored, like he could sit there all day. Neal and Burke were not in sight. Suddenly, he slid down, away from the guard dog's grip, and disappeared under the table. Jones yelled and tried to head down after him, like any adult could out maneuver him in tight spaces! Diana moved away from the door to help. Perfect! He scurried under the table like the gutter rats he watched, came out on the other side and was at the door; he opened it and was out! Cool, he was going to get away!

***WC***

Neal's back was to the door, but Peter had direct line of sight, and only a mere couple steps away. He saw the door fly open and the demon flying out. The poor kid didn't have a chance; Peter's long strides easily overtook the short skinny runt, scooped him up and carried him back into the conference room under one arm, Damon cussing and struggling all the way.

Jones and Diana looked sheepish, "Sorry Boss, he's quick!"

Neal walked in behind Peter, "You sure two agents can handle him, Peter?"

***WC***

##### Any reviews are highly appreciated! #####


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** White Collar belongs to USA Network and Jeff Eastin.

**DAMON** (3)

*** Neal walked in behind Peter, "You sure two agents can handle him, Peter?" ***

Peter was not happy. This kid was a handful! How did he get involved in this kind of stuff? Life was so much easier before Neal….. He put Damon back in his seat, not very gently, and ordered him to stay there, the kid looked at him, angry at being captured… again. Peter ordered Jones back in his guard position. Jones got a better grip on Damon's shoulder. Dianna went back to the door, anticipating her orders. Peter again sat in front of Damon. He sat there and looked at him, thinking.

Damon sat back in his chair, watching everyone, waiting for another chance.

Peter gave a sigh of resignation and then leaned forward on the conference table. He told Damon to place his arms on the table. The kid glowered at him, he was pissed. It would be harder to break and run that way.

Peter just looked at him, and pointed at the table. Damon reluctantly gave in, this guy was not going to be easy to get over on, he had a command authority about him that was hard to ignore. As soon as he placed his arms on the table, Peter shot out his hand and clamped Damon's left arm to the table. Gently, but firmly, he held Damon's arm in place.

"Damon, look at me."

Damon tried to pull his arm free and looked wildly about.

Peter had to use his full command tone, "Damon, look at me."

Damon quit trying to escape and looked at Peter.

"Now that I have your full attention, and since any thoughts of escape are futile, you will listen to me. You have shown up at my office with a story too wild and crazy not to have some truth, so I am obligated to investigate it. If the FBI has renegade agents, or if someone is posing as agents, and murdering people, then I have to investigate. Since you seem to be my only witness to these alleged crimes, I need to keep you around for the investigation."

Damon started to protest, Peter help up his free hand, shushing him.

"If these persons have FBI access, then you should not be placed in the system for them to trace. Normally, if you were an adult under these conditions, I would place you in a safe house, since an adult would have enough sense to stay there. But you're not going to stay there, are you Damon?"

Damon slowly shook his head. Well, at least he was honest.

"That leaves me with two options. Option number one is to send you to a juvenile detention center under a false name, and hope they don't run prints, " Damon stiffened up on that, he did not like that at all! "Or, two, take you home with me."

Damon's eyes narrowed, what was the catch on that one? "But, before I agree to take you home, you will promise that you will not try to run away."

Damon tried to jerk his arm away, Peter held on tight. Damon was angry, why can't they just let him go? "I'm not promising you anything, mother-fucker!"

"Diana, see what kind of ID we can make up on him, and find some facility to send him to."

Damon panicked, "No! Don't!"

Peter looked back at him, calmly, "You know your choices."

"Damn it, I'm not gonna make any open ended promises! And besides, you can't run an investigation out of here, you're White Collar! You don't do murders and runaways! As soon as you start checking, you will send up a red flag and they will find me!"

Peter frowned at the kid, "Don't tell me how to do my job. I know we can't do any direct checks, we have our ways. It will take longer, but it can be done. Give me a month to verify your story, and we will see from there."

Damon tried to free his arm again. "Fuck you! I am not promising to stay a month! You can figure it out quicker then that! I'll give you one week."

"Not long enough, kid. Not with an indirect investigation like this. Might be able to do it in 3 weeks…"

"Two weeks and you promise to let me go….."

"You promise to stay with me and not try to run away for two weeks?"

"Only if you promise not to call CPS or Juvie or anyone else to come get me."

Peter smiled inside; the kid didn't understand bargaining techniques. Peter got exactly what he had hoped for. "Deal, now you have to say it out loud."

Damon glared at him… How did Burke con him into this? Shit, now he was holding him on the out loud rules. And the agent just sat there, staring at him, waiting.

"Okay, fuck it, I promise I won't run away for two weeks." Hell, he needed a break, he needed a shower, and he was hungry… And so what if the agent got shot by whoever was looking for him.

Peter studied him; it had worked better than he had hoped it would. Now, at least he had two weeks to figure something out. But he sure wasn't going to trust this kid cart blanch, he'd have to keep a close eye on him….

"Okay, Damon, now I need names, dates, places."

The kid looked at him confused. "Huh?"

"You were very careful not to give out any info but your name, and not even a full name at that. I can't check your story without facts."

"Oh." Damon hesitated, he had made his promise, and so he might as well cooperate. "After she left Neal, she changed her name to Cindy Adkin, and somehow got a marriage license and a death certificate for a Rick Adkin. He's listed on the birth certificate. She lived in Margon, Texas. Those doctor people were Swaggers, or something like that, don't remember for sure. They were somewhere in the Dallas / Fort Worth area."

Peter was surprised. "You travelled from Texas to New York on your own. How long ago did this happen?" He would have to keep an eye on this kid.

"Between Christmas and New Year's."

"That was over 6 months ago! When did you leave the Swaggers, or whoever?

"Don't know for sure, that was in the fog time. Before the end of January."

No wonder the kid was so damn skinny! "So, your name is Damon Adkin."

Damon tugged on his arm futilely again and glared at Peter. "No! Just Damon! Damon was not his name."

Peter tilted his head, trying to make sense of that last statement, "Not whose name?

"The other one, Cindy Adkin's son."

Peter was hesitant: "She has two sons?"

"No."

"Okay, Damon, you just lost me. I thought you were her son."

Damon was getting nervous; he tried even harder to pull his arm free. They were going to lock him up for sure now. "Yes and no. I…., I…. He couldn't handle it! All the fog, he was scared, he left and I took over!" He started wildly looking around the room again. There had to be a way out!

Peter thought back. When Damon told his tale, he never said "I". When he first came in he asked Neal why he killed "his" mother, but that changed to "she". Great, he had a psycho on his hands! And he was ready to bolt, again. "Damon, look at me."

Peter saw the wildness in his eyes, he had to strengthen the command, "Damon, look at me!" Damon slowly brought his eyes back to meet his. "Damon, remember your promise."

Hesitation…. resignation… "yes."

Peter continued his questioning, "Now what was your name before you became Damon?"

"You're the fucking FBI! You figure it out! Anyway, you can't search under his name at all. That's who they're looking for! And I don't want you calling me by his name…."

Peter decided he had enough to start and the kid looked like he needed a break. He released Damon's arm. "Okay, Damon, that's enough for now. We have work to do. Stay in here and relax. Are you hungry? Thirsty?" The kid sure looked hungry.

"No." Actually, Damon was hungry, very hungry, and thirsty. But he wasn't going to admit it. That would be a sign of weakness.

"Jones, guard the door, just in case he forgets his promise." What had he gotten himself into now? And geesh! He had to call El! How was she going to take their new house guest? He headed for his office and Neal followed him in,

"Thanks Peter. I know you don't really want to do this, but what choice is there, really. And by the way, he lied, he is hungry."

Peter glared at him, "A mental hospital sounds good right about now."

Neal was shocked, "No, Peter…."

Peter sighed, "Neal, if you think he's hungry, get him something to eat."

"You need to get it, he needs to trust you, Peter."

"Fine, you get it, and I'll take it to him!" Peter was really getting frustrated.

"I'm a little short on money…."

Peter frowned and handed him a $10. He had to call El… He dialed the phone, "Hi, Hon. How would you like having a house guest for a few days?"

"Oh, okay, this is kind of sudden. Anyone I know? Do I need to do anything special? Guest room is kind of dusty; I guess I better go clean it up."

"No and no. And El, I don't think he's going to care about a little dust."

El thought Peter sounded a little off… "Okaaay, I'll see you and him later, I guess. "

Soon, Neal returned with Damon's lunch. He handed Peter a McDonald's bag and a drink. Peter stared at Neal; he had never known Neal to go to a fast food restaurant before.

Neal had to defend himself; after all, he did have a reputation to keep. "Peter, he's a kid. All kids like cheeseburger, fries and chocolate shakes! Besides, I don't think the calories are going to hurt him any."

Peter grabbed his own lunch sack; he had missed lunch because the kid showed up just before the lunch break, and headed into the conference room. Damon was sitting at the table leafing through one of the legal references kept in the room. He sat down and saw it was the one on warrant law. "Here kid, I brought you some lunch. You want to go wash up first?"

Damon looked at his hands, "Why?"

"Well … they are kind of dirty." That was a polite understatement.

Damon shrugged. "I eat out of dumpsters, this is not dirty."

That really was more information then Peter wanted. "Okay, eat."

Damon reached for the food; it's been awhile since he had Mickey D's. Can't shoplift from them! He tried to act cool, tried to go slow, but it was his favorites, and he hadn't eaten in at least 24 hours. He started wolfing the food and shake down.

"Whoa there Damon! You're going to make yourself sick! Slow down there boy! Glad you weren't hungry, hate to see how you'd eat if you were!"

Damon looked down, the food was almost gone. Damn it, he had lost control, and in front of this dude! He'd have to be more careful. He looked up, embarrassed.

That surprised Peter, "Hey, kid, it's alright, just didn't want you losing it. And one more thing, Damon, you have a tendency to use some less then proper words. I don't want you cussing in front of my wife. You will treat her with respect. You don't want to cross me on that subject."

Damon blanched and stammered "W-wife? No! No! I can't have anymore killed because of me! I... I can't stay with you!"

"Damon, she is the wife of an agent. She will be told the situation, and she knows not to open the door to strangers. We have a top notch security system. You and she will both be safe there." Damon sat there, food forgotten. "Damon, you made a promise. It will be Okay."

Damon almost looked beat. There was not much fight left in him. "You better not let her get hurt."

"That's a promise, kid." Peter wondered about this strange kid. He enters the offices crazy violent, and now is worried about the safety of his wife, whom Damon's never met. He excused himself and went back to work.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** White Collar belongs to USA Network and Jeff Eastin.

**DAMON** (4)

*** "That's a promise, kid." Peter wondered about this strange kid. He enters the offices crazy violent, and now is worried about the safety of his wife, whom Damon's never met. He excused himself and went back to work. ***

***WC***

Shortly before time to go home, Dianna came into his office. "Boss, you got a problem."

Peter had had his fill of problems that day, "Now what?"

Dianna proceeded to explain that if Peter took that filthy kid into Elizabeth's house, she would not be pleased. She offered to run by a department store and pick up a set of sweats that Damon could change into after a shower. That would free up his clothes for the washing machine. She said she would meet him in front of his house with the clothes, and that would make her available if Damon tried to make a run for it before getting him into the house. Peter thought that was a great idea, and gave her some cash. Dang kid was already costing him money!

Time came to leave and Peter went to collect his newest problem. He went to the conference room and sat down in front of the kid. "Damon, it's time to go home. Remember you're promise. Repeat it out loud."

Damon looked at him, this guy was slick; how was he going to get away from him? "I promise not to run away. You fuckin' happy?"

"As long as you keep your promise, I am. Oh yeah, and respect my wife. No cussing around her. I warn you, don't push me on that one!" The kid stared at him. "Okay, let's go, Damon."

Peter stood up and indicated Damon should rise also, when he did, Peter grabbed him firmly by his upper arm. Dang, his hand encircled the arm! Damon gave a test tug and knew he was held tight. He didn't know anything about this guy, and now he was in control of his life! How did he let that happen? There was nothing to do but go with him, like he had choice.

Peter guided Damon to the car and made him crawl across the driver's seat while he held him by the wrist, and followed in after him. He would not release the boy until his seat belt was fastened and given instructions not to touch the door or seat belt release. Damon glared at him. They drove to the house in silence. Damon felt Peter watching him the whole time, ready to take action if Damon even thought about touching the door handle. They pulled up in front of a yellow three story townhouse and Peter made Damon reverse the process as he grabbed his wrist to guide him out the driver's side.

Diana met Peter with a package and wished him luck. Peter made Damon turn his back while he entered the code then pulled him into the house and released his jailer's grip. Damon just stared. He thought it was three apartments but now he saw it was one house! A mansion!

Just then a huge yellow lab came running up, and Damon forgot the house and started petting the dog. He was friendly and Damon never met a dog he didn't like. Peter told him the dog's name was Satchmo or Satch for short.

Elizabeth stepped out from the kitchen, "Peter, you're home. Where is your guest?"

Peter looked back and saw the kid was behind him, and nervously pulled him forward, watching El's face. "Hon, meet Damon."

Elizabeth stared. Not at all what she had expected! "Hi Damon." She looked back at Peter, "He's… ah… filthy."

Peter remembered the package in his hands. "Got it covered El, got a clean outfit for him to shower and change into!"

She nodded her head, "Good, take him up to our shower and make sure he has what he needs. Then bring these clothes back down so I can put them in the washer. Don't forget his shoes. I want everything cleaned! Then you have some explaining to do, Peter." She turned and headed back to the kitchen. Was Peter bringing home strays now? That was not like him.

Peter turned to Damon, "Okay kid, you heard the lady. Upstairs!" He guided Damon to the bathroom and got him set up and gave him the package of new clothes. He told him to undress and hand all of his old clothes out the door to him, to include his sneakers. Damon did as he was told, he didn't have many options, and he did want a shower! How long had it been since he had a hot shower….

Peter took his dirty clothes to El, who promptly threw them in the washer, then realized she had to wait until Damon was done before she could start the load. She did not want Damon to run out of hot water. Peter told her the day's events and, of course, once explained she understood why Peter had dragged this stray home. She agreed he had no choice. And, of course, they discussed how they might handle Damon. That was an unknown.

Time passed. Too much time. Dinner was ready. Where was Damon? Surely he had run out of hot water a long time ago. Did he somehow get away? Peter went upstairs; the bathroom door was still closed. "Damon?"

"Yeah?"

Good he was still there. "Are you about done? Dinner's ready."

Damon replied in a small voice, "I can't wear these."

"Why not? Are they the wrong size?"

"No. I just can't"

"Damon, Are you dressed? I'm coming in." Peter opened the door slowly, and Damon scrambled to pull on the top, but not before Peter got a glance at him. There was no fat left on the boy, he could count every rib without trying. And he had a myriad of bruises, cuts, scrapes and sores in various stages of healing, some slightly infected.

Damon, shirt pulled down now, just stood there, dressed in bright pink sweats turned inside out. Peter forced himself not to smile, but he saw the kid's dilemma. "Why are you wearing them inside out?"

"Because they have Barbie logo on them! I can't go out in public wearing these! I'll get my ass kicked!"

Peter really had to fight back the laughter. Do not mess with Diana! He used his best 'no nonsense' voice, "Damon, you are not going out in public, it's just El and me. Now comb your hair and come downstairs. Dinner is ready." He had to get downstairs and tell El not to laugh, the kid was really embarrassed!

Elizabeth and Peter were in the dining room when he heard her suck in a sharp breath, "Peter, you don't need DNA. He is Neal's son." Peter looked up and saw Damon coming down the stairs, clean faced and hair combed back. Oh yeah, there was a good looking kid under all that dirt. And, he looked just like a mini-Neal.

Peter pulled out a chair for him, "Come on Damon. Are you hungry? Let's eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"Good! 'Cause earlier, when you weren't hungry, you inhaled your food. Sit."

Damon sat it the chair indicated. He was reluctant to dish up his own food, so El grabbed his plate and, noticing his slight frame, served him healthy portions. Damon politely thanked her and ate submissively. Peter observed him. This was not the demon child that had stormed into his office earlier that day; this kid was quiet, shy? Even polite. He would not make eye contact, so Peter could not read him. The kid certainly was a mystery. How did he survive six months on his own? He didn't look strong enough to survive a day at the park.

After dinner, Peter decided to question him some more. Maybe he would be more open in this mood. So he asked him what he knew about Neal. And Damon quietly told him:

Cindy told her son as a toddler that Neal was his biological father, but no one else knew. Cindy was pregnant when she moved to Margon with her fake ID, fake marriage license and her 'husband's' fake death certificate. No one knew the truth. But she had never dated another man after Neal. She said that Neal was her life partner, and there could be no other. The small town respected the 'grieving' widow's fidelity. She followed all Neal's exploits that she could research online, and she was so proud of his achievements. Peter frowned at this, not a good example for the kid. Damon went on to explain that this was kind of confusing because she raised her kid to respect and follow the law. He thought it was kind of a double standard. Damon wondered that if her son followed in Neal's footsteps, would she be proud or pissed? Peter did not want to get into that right now.

At this point, Damon kind of glanced up at Peter and told him that Cindy hated him. Peter was surprised and asked why, she didn't even know him.

"Because you caged her Freebird!" Was that a smile on the kid's face? For just a second, Peter swore the kid smiled.

Then Peter asked how Damon traced Neal to New York and White Collar. Again, on-line research. Damon knew Neal's prison sentence was up about a year ago, so he kept watching, waiting for Neal to return to his old ways. Sure enough he did with a pink diamond heist, but, as usual, he got away with it. But it told him that Neal was in New York, and he figured Agent Burke would be looking for him again. So, when he left Texas and wanted to find him and/or Agent Burke, he came. Damon did not expect to find them in the same office. He said that was a surprise he discovered while staking out the building. That surprised Peter, staking out the FBI. But, Damon explained, he really thought it was Agent Burke that killed his mother since an agent was involved, but he didn't know what Agent Burke looked like. He watched everyone coming in and out and none were the killer. When he saw Neal and Burke together, he didn't know what to believe. That's when he decided Neal had gotten the FBI to go after him, he wanted custody or something.

Peter asked if he knew why Neal was at the FBI offices. Damon looked confused, he really had no idea.

Peter sighed, the kid needed to know and he guessed since he brought it up, he had to tell him. He explained about Neal's prison break, another 4 year sentence and how he works as a Criminal Consultant. And that he did not steal the pink diamond.

Damon was incredulous. Neal escaped with 3 months left on a 4 years sentence? He had thought Neal was smart, but that was really dumb. Now Neal was out of his cage, but had his wings clipped. Was that another slight smile Peter saw on Damon's face? And Damon thought Neal had conned Agent Burke, of course he stole the pink diamond, he got away with everything.

It was getting late. Peter was pleased that Damon had spoken openly, quietly, and politely. Maybe the next two weeks would be survivable. Elizabeth requested Peter show Damon where he would be sleeping, and Damon stood up and reached for the clean clothes she had folded neatly.

Peter stopped him, "No Damon. Those are staying in El's and my room tonight."

Damon's eyes flashed back to that cold dark look. "Why?"

Peter watched him, "It's just a precaution, Damon. To help you keep your promise."

Damon's eyes were sparking. "So this is a prison uniform I'm wearing?"

Peter couldn't help but smile, "Damon, you did commit a few felonies today. Let's go to bed." Boy, the kid's moods could change fast! He'd have to remember to thank Diana for her insight on Damon's wardrobe.

He led Damon on up to the 3rd floor guest room, the one right over their bedroom, so he could hear any movements in the night. Damon stood by the bed and glared at him hoping the agent didn't plan on tucking him in. Finally, Peter left; stating he'd leave the door open and hallway light on so Damon could orient himself in the night. Damon looked around his 'jail cell'; he walked over to check the windows to see if they were wired into the alarm system. No sign of wires. Good. He tested to see if they would open and found out they would only open a few inches. Damn safety features!

"Plan on going somewhere?"

Damon twirled around; Agent Burke was standing in the doorway! How'd he sneak back so quietly? "J…. just getting some fresh air."

"Yeah, right. Remember, we have a deal. Go to bed Damon." Peter left for the second time. Damon sat on the bed. It had been a long day, his stomach was fuller then it had been for a long time, and he was tired. He laid back and slept.

Peter joined El in their room. He was a little edgy. What had he allowed himself to be talked into? The kid had gone feral! El hugged him and reassured him he did all he could. He took off his gun and holster that he hadn't dare remove downstairs as he normally did and placed them on the night stand and got ready for bed. It took him a while to go to sleep, but he finally dozed off.

The scream woke him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** White Collar belongs to USA Network and Jeff Eastin.

**DAMON** (5)

*** The scream woke him. ***

He jumped out of bed and grabbed his gun. The kid! He ran upstairs into the kid's room. Damon stood against the wall, his face drained of color. Peter swung his gun around the room looking for intruders.

"I... i... it was j... just the d... dr... dream." Damon stuttered in a weak voice as he slid to a sitting position on the floor. As Peter lowered his weapon the kid started gagging. Peter looked around the room and spotted the trashcan; he grabbed it and rushed to the boy just in time to catch the vomit. Peter held his head and tried to sooth him as he thoroughly emptied the contents of his stomach.

When he finally seemed to be finished, Peter helped him up and headed Damon and the trashcan to the bathroom for cleanup. Damon protested saying he could take care of himself, but he was weak and shaking and Peter informed him that there was no way Peter was going to let him. He put a cold rag to the kid's face and wiped it off, then cleaned out the trashcan, all the time wondering why he wasn't gagging himself.

When Damon seemed to have calmed down enough, Peter took him, the rag and the trashcan (just in case) back to the bedroom and sat on the bed beside him. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to relax the kid. Damon's defenses were down.

"S... sorry."

"Hey, it happens to the best of us. I guess we fed you too much."

"N... no. It's n... not the food. It just h... happens sometimes, when the d... dream is really bad."

"Can you tell me what the dream's about?"

"D... don't rem... member. I n... never remember."

"You have this dream often?"

"Y... yes. S... sorry, was h... hoping I wouldn't here."

Peter pulled the kid closer; he was surprised there was no resistance. "Well, maybe you just need a little time to feel safe here." God, he hoped so, his heart couldn't take too many of those wake up calls!

Peter was sure the dream had to do with the black space Damon talked of. The kid had seen something; something so bad he blacked it out, then dreamed of it. Peter was really afraid that he had seen his mother murdered.

When Damon had quit shaking and seemed to have calmed; Peter asked him if he could go back to sleep. Damon said maybe he could. Peter motioned for him to lie down, and then pulled the covers over him, well, not quite tucking him in, but it was close.

Peter headed for his own bed. Elizabeth had snuck upstairs after the commotion had died down and saw Peter was handling the situation just fine. She also knew the boy needed to learn to trust Peter, so she had slipped back down to bed. Peter crawled in bed and she snuggled up to him.

"Is he okay?"

"For now I hope. 'Night El."

About fifteen minutes later he heard the kid moving around the room. He listened to the footsteps progress down the hall, and then they started down the staircase. Peter sighed, _not again_. He got up to meet the kid at the second story landing,

"Going somewhere?"

Damon froze in place. This man was uncannily quiet for someone his size! He started explaining himself; rapidly and pleadingly.

"Ah… no. Yes. I was going downstairs to read. I'm not running away, not in pink Barbie clothes and barefoot! You have the alarms set. I can't leave! But, I can't go back to sleep right away after the dream. I never can. I usually just move on, but I can't do that here so I thought maybe if I read something I could go back to sleep. Please Sir. I'm not running. I was just going downstairs to read a book."

Peter sighed, it was hard not to believe the boys pleas. "Damon, look me in the eyes and promise me you will be here in the morning."

Damon didn't even hesitate, "Yes Sir. I promise I will be here."

'Sir', that was an improvement. Peter stood aside to let him pass. "Go read, and then try to get some sleep. The four or so hours you got is not enough."

Damon carefully slipped by him and went on down to the living room. Peter waited about twenty minutes and then quietly snuck down the stairs just far enough to get a peek at what the kid was doing. He was sitting on the floor, back against the couch, Satch's head resting in his lap, and reading a book. It looked like kind of a big book for a little kid, but that didn't matter, the boy hadn't lied; now maybe Peter could get some sleep.

***WC***

The next morning El gently woke him. "Peter, I was going downstairs to start the coffee and, well, you need to see this before I accidently wake him up."

Peter saw she was smiling, so it couldn't be anything bad; he hoped. She put her fingers to her lips and he tiptoed after her. About halfway down the stairs the dog bed at the end of the couch came into view. Satch was stretched out on it with Damon, sound asleep, snuggled up behind him, arms wrapped around the Golden, hugging him tight. He looked so small and frail, and yes, even angelic in his sleep. Peter couldn't help but smile himself. The boy looked so innocent… but Peter knew there was a demon inside. Too bad he couldn't do an old fashioned catholic exorcism to get it out.

He kissed El and announced he was going to jump in the shower. El quietly proceeded to the kitchen to start the coffee and get breakfast. When she brought the cereal and bowls out to the table, she noticed Damon had woken up and was sitting on the couch, watching her with guarded eyes.

"Good morning, Damon. Did you sleep okay?"

"Good morning, Ma'am, I guess I did."

Just then, Peter, hearing Damon's voice, called out for him to come up and get his cloths and some toiletries El had gotten together for him. "Go brush your teeth and hair, wash the sleep out of your face, get dressed and get back downstairs pronto so you have time to eat. And I don't want to hear that you're not hungry. Move."

Damon ran upstairs two at a time. He grabbed the items from Peter, and then rushed on up to the 3rd floor bathroom. Peter smiled at the kid's back. Well, maybe sometimes he did listen. Then he went on to finish getting himself ready.

Damon returned downstairs shortly after Peter, and Peter motioned him to the table to eat. El looked at Damon, his clothes might smell better but they were so worn, faded and stained that they still looked filthy. Well, she would fix that! She had noticed his sizes when she washed them and she was going to pick up a couple changes today. He could not live here for two weeks looking like a street urchin! And breakfast. Cereal was not enough nutrition for a growing child, especially one in Damon's depleted condition. She would do some grocery shopping, too.

When it was time to leave Peter went to the door and called Damon to him. The kid was getting fidgety again; he kept glancing at the door, acting like a horse at the starting gate. Peter got a firm grip on his arm,

"Damon, look at me." Damon looked up, there it was, the wild rabbit look. Damon looked away, back at the door. Peter spoke again in a firmer voice, "Damon, look at me and tell me your promise."

Damon glanced up, and then back at the door, he tried pulling away. Then resigned, he gave in. He looked at Peter, the wildness calmed down and gave his promise. Peter guided him to the car, and again, made him crawl across the driver seat while Peter held his wrist.

While he drove, Peter thought about Damon's need to run. It was frustrating to make him re-promise every time, but he was starting to think that Damon really could not control the urge. He had been running too long, he had gone feral, he was wild. He needed to be tamed, but Peter had to be careful to gentle, not break, him. Seeing the streets really fed his urge to run, so Peter had him repeat the promise in order to get him into the offices.

When they arrived at White Collar and walked through the office doors, Peter heard Diana say

"See, told ya! Pay up!" and start collecting money from Jones and a couple others.

Aw, so there was another reason for the 'prison' uniform! He wondered if he should tell them she hedged the bet. He smiled to himself; no that was smart and he didn't want to cramp her style. He told Damon to go wait in the conference room; he ran two steps at time; and then Peter turned to see if there were any initial reports on Damon's story.

Neal had Mozzie look up the newspaper articles. Mozzie would have routed the request through so many terminals that if his request was flagged, they would think it came from China or something just as remote. Peter wished he could let Moz on his FBI computers for this case but he knew he would never let that happen! He read the articles.

First article was about a Cindy Adkin a paralegal that was found shot dead in her home in Margon, Texas. She was found on January 2 after her boss reported she did not show up for work, call in, or answer her phone. She had been dead for several days. The article further reported she was a widow with one son. The 11 year son was rushed from the house via ambulance. When questioned, the hospital stated the boy was in serious condition. When asked about his injuries, they would only say he had not been shot. The boy's name was withheld.

Well, that verified part of Damon's story, but he could have read it. It did not prove he was the son. And the article stated he was eleven, then he remembered Damon's birthday and realized he turned 12 during the 'fog' time. Dead several days? That sent shivers down Peter's spine. How long did Damon stay in that closet? He said 'forever'. He was 12; well almost 12 at the time, why didn't he just force the door open and get out? The article brought up more questions than it answered. He read the second article.

On Jan 21, the McSwaggarts were found dead in their home after neighbors reported gunshots. Both were psychologists who specialized in children with PTSD. They had set up their personal home as a foster home for the worse of these children because they believed a home environment would heal them quicker and with longer lasting results. They had helped dozens of children over the years and were considered top in their field. They had four boys under their care at the time of the shooting; all four were missing when the police arrived. The article showed a picture of each of the boys, their names, and a phone number to call to report a sighting. And there was Stephen Adkin. He looked like Damon, but he was not Damon. This boy had a smile ear to ear and happy, bright blue eyes. He had the face of pure innocence with no knowledge of evil. Peter knew this picture was taken before his mother was shot.

Peter sighed, a demon had possessed this boy, and his name was Damon.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** White Collar belongs to USA Network and Jeff Eastin.

**DAMON** (6)

*** Peter sighed, a demon had possessed this boy, and his name was Damon. ***

Diana stood beside him, "You okay, Boss?"

"Yeah, I was just thinking. I wonder if there's any way we can get hold of his hospital records." Peter thought he might need to know more if he was going to take care of the child.

"Now Boss, you know that's almost impossible with a straight up investigation. With the way our hands are tied on this one…."

They started discussing another case that just pushed itself into a priority position and Peter told her to call a meeting to brainstorm ideas. Meeting in the conference room in 15 minutes.

Peter glanced up at the boy sitting in the conference room, the boy stared back at him, and Peter knew the kid knew he had just read reports on him. The kid was uncanny. He headed up the stairs to talk to him. He took his usual position in front of the boy and said "Stephen Adkin."

Damon replied sarcastically, "So the FBI can figure out the name of one little kid when given all the information. And don't ever call me that, he is gone." He looked down, then back up, sarcasm gone, his eyes cold and unreadable again. "What about the doctors? If they were doctors."

Peter felt the kid already knew, but he needed verification. "They are dead."

"Was anyone else in the house?"

"No, they didn't find anyone else there." Peter looked into Damon's eyes; he had shut down again, blocking the world out with his cold wall. He wasn't about ready to tell him about the missing boys.

"Damon, I need to use the room for a meeting so I'm going to move you into my office. Take whatever book you want to, ah, read and come in there." He saw Damon had a book on investigative procedures, and couldn't imagine he was actually reading it. He guessed he would have to find something to entertain the boy for the next couple weeks.

He set Damon up in his office and informed him that he would NOT touch any files on his desk, or open his desk or file cabinet. And wondered if it was safe to leave the kid in his office, and then chided himself; _he was just a little boy! Wasn't he?_ Peter went to his meeting.

***WC***

The rest of the day passed in normal White Collar hubbub when working on an active case. Peter checked on Damon when he could and worked at his desk some, _did he leave those files there?_ Damon was not talkative, which was okay, Peter was too busy to talk. They had a quiet lunch together.

Neal tried to talk to Damon but Damon's cold hate filled stare soon sent him from the room.

At the end of the day the promise routine was repeated at beginning and end of the journey home, and Damon was again guided in and out of the car via the driver's door.

When they got in the house Peter told Damon to go upstairs, shower, and change into his sweats and bring his clothes, to include his shoes back downstairs to him.

Damon exploded. "No! You can't make me wear those fucking clothes again! I won't!"

He turned to run upstairs, but Peter caught him by his arm and held tight. Damon swung out to hit him with his free arm, but Peter grabbed that one too. He pulled Damon in tight, back against his chest, and wrapped his arms around him while Damon fought against him.

Peter waited for the boy to wear himself out and calm down. Finally, he did. Peter then loosened his grip enough to turn the boy to face him. He held him by the chin and made him look at him.

"Damon, you will do as I said. And you will not use foul language in my house. Is that understood?" Damon starred back silently. Peter firmed his voice, "Is that understood?" Damon finally gave a small nod. "I can't hear you."

A very placated Damon responded, "Yes." Peter still stared at him. In a yet smaller voice. "Yes Sir."

"Good. Now go."

He released Damon and the boy went upstairs, not two at a time, but he went. Peter ran his hand through his hair. What did he think he was doing? He had no idea how to handle a kid! And especially not a messed up one like this!

Just then Elizabeth popped her head out of the kitchen, "All clear?" She went to Peter and gave him a hug. _Boy, he thought, I needed that!_ "I was surprised you didn't swat him."

He sighed, "I couldn't El, not after what I found out today."

They went into the dining room and after she brought him a beer, he told her about the articles and told her of his fear of damaging the kid further. She rubbed his arm, which always relaxed him, and told him she thought he did just fine. She gave him a kiss, and went back to check on dinner.

When Damon came back downstairs, he wouldn't look Peter in the eye while he handed him his clothes and shoes. He then went to Satch, sat on the floor, holding and petting the dog. Peter watched him, hoping like hell he hadn't broken the kid's spirit. He did have one hell of a spirit! It just needed guiding, not breaking.

Dinner was uneventful; Damon ate what El put on his plate, and thanked her politely, never forgetting to use Ma'am when addressing her. He went to bed when told. Peter didn't know if he should be thankful or worried, and that worried him more.

***WC***

About 4 hours later, Peter was awakened by a muffled cry. The dream. Not as bad as last night, but still… He went upstairs to help the boy.

Damon was standing in the middle of the room. He was visibly shaken, but he was controlling it. Peter asked if he was alright, and what could he do to help. Damon looked at him. His cold, dark eyes were back. Damon informed him that he had been taking care of it for a long time by himself and didn't need any help. He brushed by Peter and went to his bathroom closing the door, closing Peter out. There was nothing for Peter to do but go back to bed. He waited till he heard Damon go downstairs and gave him time to get settled, and then quietly checked on him. There he was, same position as last night, petting the dog and reading a book. Peter went back to bed.

As he fell asleep he realized something was wrong with Damon's room, the bed was still made.

In the morning, Damon was found again sleeping in the dog bed with the dog.

***WC***

Peter called Damon upstairs to get ready. Damon went up and Peter handed him his clothes, Damon took them, then stopped and informed Peter the clothes weren't his and tried to hand them back. Peter informed him that El had gotten him some new clothes. Damon started to flare up and protest;_ he didn't want anything from these people!_

Peter interrupted before Damon could get the first word out, "Damon, El took time out of her day to make a special trip to the store just for you. You refusing these show a total lack of regard for her or her time. Do you really want to disrespect her like that?"

Damon gave Peter the evil eye, but took the clothes and headed upstairs. Peter hollered after him, "Remember, brush, brush, wash and dress. Then get downstairs to eat!" Peter watched the boy go. He thought that could have gone better, but then again, it hadn't gone too bad… He went to finish getting dressed.

When Damon came to breakfast, looking like a normal kid, albeit a very good looking one, in new jeans and t-shirt, El set a plate of eggs, bacon and toast in front of him. Peter jokingly asked where his was; El kissed him and said his was in the fridge.

Damon, not understanding the bond between the two, tried to hand Peter his plate, saying he didn't want it anyway. Peter could have sworn he saw guilt on the kid's face. Of course he refused and told him to enjoy the breakfast El had made especially for him.

Damon ate it all, secretly relishing every bite of fresh cooked eggs that he hadn't eaten in a long, long time.

When they got to the office, remarks were made about Damon's new look, but he rushed up to Peter's office to block them all out. The day passed pretty much as the day before.

***WC***

When they got home, Peter told Damon to go shower, change and bring down his clothes; Damon shot him an angry look, but complied without the drama of the day before. Peter was relieved and thought he was getting somewhere with the kid.

But Damon's obedience was not based on complacency, but on deciding that he was serving a two week jail sentence, and Peter was the jailer. After all, he did commit a couple crimes; 'don't do the crime if you can't do the time'. He figured if he just did what he was told; in two weeks he would be released. But damn! Sometimes it was really hard to obey that hard headed s.o.b.!

He did have to admit that he did like Mrs. Burke. She made his jail sentence a lot more tolerable. And Satchmo! How many prisoners had a friend like Satch? Come the think of it, poor Satch was Peter's prisoner too, he had to obey orders just like Damon did. And Peter never let Satch out of the house without a leash, controlling him just like he controlled Damon.

That night, Peter waited until he was sure Damon was settled down for the night, after that he quietly snuck up to his room. Sure enough, the bed was empty. Peter moved deeper into his room, let his eyes adjust to the dim light coming in from the hallway, and looked around. Damon was curled up under the table on the far side of the room with an old blanket and pillow he must have found in the closet. Peter sighed at sat down on the empty bed. Damon must have sensed or heard him, because he sat up warily watching Peter.

"Damon, why aren't you sleeping in the bed?"

"Because I don't like it."

"Is there something wrong with it?" Silence. "Is it too hard or too soft?"

Damon shook his head no.

"Would you like to try the bed in the other room?"

Again, Damon shook his head no.

"Damon, help me here. Do you want to sleep on the floor?"

"It's one of the better places I've slept."

Peter was at a loss for words. _He couldn't make the kid sleep in the bed!_ They stared at each other a couple more minutes, and then Peter gave up and said good night and went to bed. About ten minutes later, he heard Damon sneaking down the stairs. He waited another fifteen minutes and checked on him.

He was curled up in the dog bed with the dog. Peter went back to bed.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer**: White Collar belongs to USA Network and Jeff Eastin.: Criminal Minds is the property of CBS, the actors, producers, and writers of the show.

**DAMON** (7)

*** He was curled up in the dog bed with the dog. Peter went back to bed. ***

Then the weekend was on them. Peter had been so busy on a case that he didn't realize how much the kid had really shut down. He obeyed every order, his eyes might flash, but he obeyed; he always used 'Ma'am' and often 'Sir', but he had quit talking beyond any required communications. He spent all his time with a book and petting the dog.

Once, he and El had left him downstairs alone for a while to take care of some chore upstairs, and when he had returned he found Damon and Satch wrestling around on the floor. He thought he might have heard a laugh, but as soon as Damon saw him, he stopped and went back to his book. Peter tried to tell him he had done nothing wrong, it was okay, but Damon shut him out.

And the books. He was always reading something from Peter's legal reference books. But he just leafed through them, never staying on one page too long. Once Peter asked him if he was really reading anything. Damon gave him that cold look, "I'm looking at pictures." Peter just shook his head, there were no pictures…

***WC***

Sunday afternoon, El asked Damon to set the table to give him something to do, and he politely complied. The doorbell rang and Peter went to answer it, missing the look on Damon's face. But Elizabeth didn't, she watched all color drain from him; his eyes went totally wild and he looked toward the back door.

El stepped between him and the door and as reassuringly as she could muster, "No Damon, it will be alright." Damon wildly looked around, saw the basement door and slipped through it.

Peter entered the dining room with Neal in tow, looked around and asked where Damon was, he had a visitor. El cocked her head toward the basement door. Peter had a questioning look on his face then realization stole over him. The doorbell! The kid must be in a state of panic. He headed for the door, the kid needed him; he didn't even think about the fact the kid's biological father was there and should be doing this. Damon was his responsibility and Peter was never known to shirk his responsibilities.

After Peter left, Neal turned to El sheepishly, "I forgot about the doorbell, I should have knocked. But I will fix that! Where are Peter's tools?"

El hesitantly showed him wondering what he had in mind, you never knew with Neal. Neal proceeded to disengage the doorbell and place an unusually artistic sign over it saying 'doorbell broke, please knock'. El hoped Peter wouldn't get angry about it. Neal assured her he would fix it when it was safe to.

Neal had come over to try talk to Damon, to get past that hate in the kid's eyes. It wasn't his fault he didn't know the kid existed. He needed to somehow get through to him that he did care. He guessed he didn't start out very well and wondered if he should leave_, run_, while he could. Instead, he sat down and chatted with El while Peter fixed his problem, Peter was good at fixing Neal's problems…

Peter turned on the light as he headed down the basement stairs. There was some diffused light coming through the basement windows, but not much, he was surprised the kid didn't break his neck in the near dark. He kept calling Damon's name gently as he searched for him, he finally found him hiding behind an old couch they had stored down there. _Why did they still have that old thing?_ He was sitting against the wall; arms wrapped around his knees, bunched up in as tight a ball as he could muster.

Peter tried to coax him out but to no avail; he had no choice but to crawl his way in after him. Peter was considerably larger then Damon and it was not an easy feat, but he finally managed to sit next to him. Damon was shaking like a leaf and… crying? He put his arm around him; _good, no resistance_; in as gentle a voice as he could muster he explained that it was only Neal, everything was alright. He started rubbing Damon's head with his free hand, trying to calm him_. Did Damon lean into him? Just a little?_

Damon blubbered out, "I'm a coward, just like Stephen."

_Just like Stephen? What was that about?_ "What makes you think you're a coward?"

"I should have stayed and protected Mrs. Burke, but I ran away, like a coward."

Peter almost laughed, but the kid was too serious. "Damon, it is not your job to protect El, that is my job. It is my job to keep you and El safe. And you are not a coward." He thought Damon was anything but a coward.

He wrapped both arms tight around the boy and mumbled words of comfort. Damon did lean into him, his shaking and sobbing subsiding a little. He held Damon until he calmed down. When Damon finally did relax, Peter leaned back and tilted Damon's face up to look at him. "You ready to go back upstairs?" Damon slightly nodded his head. "You sure?" Damon nodded a little harder. "Okay kid, let's go."

Peter had a little trouble unfolding himself from the cramped quarters, and his legs were pin and needles, but both of them managed to get out, their clothes dusty. El was always after Peter to clean the basement. Peter and Damon headed back up the stairs. El greeted them. "Hey Damon, are you alright? You're father's here to see you."

The demon was back. "He's not my father! He's just a sperm donor!"

El was taken aback; Damon had never raised his voice to her before. She looked at him reprovingly, "Damon, that was rude. You need to apologize to Neal."

Damon realized he had just yelled at Mrs. Burke, he really liked her and did not want to offend her. He quickly stammered out a heartfelt apology to her, then, after glancing at Peter's firm look, a not so heartfelt one to Neal.

Neal tried to defuse the situation; "Hey, Damon, sorry about the doorbell, I fixed it so that won't happen again, Sorry, I should have knocked." He saw Peter angrily getting ready to ask him what he had done to 'his' doorbell, so he continued on. "Damon I came to see you. Come on, want to play some chess?"

Damon responded coolly, "I don't play chess."

"Come on, I'll teach you." Neal went to set up the game.

Damon glanced at Peter and saw he was still displeased with his outburst, so he figured it was safer to play chess with Neal. Neal explained all the moves to Damon and they played a couple games. Neal really tried to hold back on his finesse with the game, but was disappointed when Damon did not seem to pick up the strategy of game very well. He hoped he didn't let his disappointment show. At least the hate level in Damon's eyes was down, some.

Of course, El invited Neal to join them for dinner, he accepted and the four of them had an uneventful meal. Damon was still trying to avoid Peter, just in case he was still angry, and was overly polite and helpful to El, trying to make up for his earlier transgression. He even offered to help with the dishes, and she accepted. Peter was not angry with Damon; he thought he was correcting his error rather well.

***WC***

They fell into a pattern: Repeating the promise, Damon leafing through books he could not understand, the 'prison' outfit; the dream every night, and after, sleeping with the dog. Damon occasionally flared up and Peter squelched it. Damon was always polite and helpful with El, guarded with Peter, and avoided Neal.

About a week after Damon erupted into their lives, Diana came to Peter with news. The BAU out of Quantico, Virginia has the files on the Adkin/McSwaggart case. Peter thought that might be a good thing. He had taken some classes from SA Gideon, and a few with SA Hotchner. He had developed a good rapport with both, and knew both were on the up and up.

He knew he'd have to drive down to Quantico to talk to them in person since White Collar and BAU cases never crossed paths; communication had to be off-the-record. And he knew they would want to question Damon. He told Diana to see if she could set up an appointment, a meeting of old friends…

Diana stopped him. "Boss, they'll take Damon from you." Peter looked puzzled. "Boss, you have no legal rights to him. He is their case, which makes him more theirs then yours. And then when he goes into his 'Stephen/Damon' thing, well…"

Peter hesitated; _did he want to give up the boy?_ If they took him, they would probably lock him up in some mental hospital. He really didn't think that would be the best thing for him. He believed he was making some progress, slow, but some. And what about Neal, how would Neal take it if he lost the kid? But he had no legal grounds to keep him. "Diana, hold up on the appointment. I have to do some thinking…."

"Boss, I've been anticipating this and have done some research." He looked at her hopefully.

She explained that there was precedence with another couple of cases involving dirty FBI agents were the witnesses were placed in an 'In-house WITSEC', the witness protection program. Their files were maintained solely within the investigating unit to protect them from detection. It was ruled to be just as legal as the regular WITSEC, but obviously, not as safe, unless you where hiding from people with access to WITSEC. She couldn't find a case were an unaccompanied minor is placed in an in-house program, but there is always a first time.

"Boss, we can place him under White Collar's protection; create a new ID for him, and you, as Special Agent-In-Charge take protective custody of him. We'll get you legal guardianship under his new ID."

Peter hesitated. "Do you think it will work?"

"Boss, it's the best I can come up with. It's worth a shot, and it's better than going in empty-handed."

Peter's head was whirling; _did he want to do this? Did he want custody of this boy? Did he want to throw him to the mercy of the world?_ "I'd have to talk to El… and Neal."

"Of course, Boss."

Both thought it was a great idea; Neal because it would give him more time to bridge the gulf between them, and El because she didn't want the boy locked away either, he could use some therapy, yes, but not locked away! Peter was a little irritated, yeah they thought it was a great idea; they weren't the ones that had to deal with his outbursts. But when his defenses were down…

The problem was to get Damon to agree. It would not work without his consent. And that was not going to be easy… He'd have to plan his approach. He got with his team to work out the details.

***WC***

##### Thank you so much for the feedback! But I don't mind getting more… #####


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer**: White Collar belongs to USA Network and Jeff Eastin.: Criminal Minds is the property of CBS, the actors, producers, and writers of the show.

**DAMON** (8)

*** The problem was to get Damon to agree. It would not work without his consent. And that was not going to be easy… He'd have to plan his approach. He got with his team to work out the details. ***

***WC***

That afternoon, Peter instructed Damon to go to the conference room. Damon entered slowly, he was nervous; he did not like this… Diana, Jones and Neal were already inside waiting. No, Damon did not like this at all! He quickly figured out that they were intending to hold him there, like they did before, while the authorities were summoned to come pick him up. Well, Peter broke his end of the deal, so he was freed from his obligation, and he bolted for the door.

Over the last week Peter had gotten better at reading the kid, especially when he went into rabbit mode. When Damon was ready to run, his body projected his intent quite loudly; at least to Peter it did. So when Damon bolted, Peter caught him easily. This pissed Damon off no end and he regressed back to his first day there, fighting and cussing.

Peter, not understanding what in the world had set the boy off this time, carried him to his old chair and deposited him there. He motioned Jones over to stand guard until this was sorted out. Talk about déjà vu! He positioned himself in front of Damon and asked him why he had tried to run. Why was he breaking his promise?

Damon was fuming, "You know fuc… owww!" His hand shot to his ear, covering it.

Peter looked up at Jones. Jones explained simply, "Hey, my Dad used to twist my ear. It worked on me."

Peter really tried to control his smile, Diana didn't try at all. He'd have to get Jones to teach him that trick! "Want to try that again, Damon?"

Damon shot Jones a look, 'if looks could kill?'… He tried again. "Because you are calling the authorities to come take me away! You broke your promise!"

Peter was flabbergasted, where did the kid come up with some of his ideas! "I have no intentions of sending you away, rather the opposite." But now he was second guessing his intent to keep Damon. The boy glared at him, he was alert, 'the opposite'? Peter sighed. The boy had thrown him off his game, his approach was hijacked. He had to back up and try again.

"Damon, no one has been called. I am not sending you away. I called you in here because we have some information on your case and need to discuss it with you." Damon's brow furrowed, this sounded fishy… "We found out the BAU down in Virginia is investigating the murders of your mother and the McSwaggarts."

"Why would the Behavioral Analysis Unit be investigating them? They usually do a lot worse stuff then that." Damon responded skeptically.

Peter studied Damon. What would he know about the BAU? He went on. "I don't know. That's what I need to find out. I need to drive down there and talk to them." He hesitated. "Damon, they are going to need to question you." Peter wasn't sure what to expect, but not this particular outburst.

Damon tried to jump up, but Jones held him down. "No! No! I can't! They will lock me away! They are psychologists and behavioral analysts and they will say I'm crazy and lock me away! I can't go there!" He was in a state of panic. Jones kept a tight grip on him.

"Damon, please hear me out. We have a plan. Do you want to find your mother's killers? Do you want to stop running?" Damon slowly nodded. "Then hear me out, there is a way." He proceeded to explain the plan Dianna had hatched. When He tried to explain WITSEC to him, Damon informed him he already knew what that was. Peter thought maybe he better pay more attention to what the kid was 'reading'. But, he was listening intently until Peter got to the legal custody part.

"That's just till after we talk to them, right?"

"No Damon, me and El will have legal custody of you. We will be lawfully responsible for you. It will be officially binding. It cannot be terminated unless another legally responsible adult gains custody of you."

"No! I only have one week left on my jail sentence, and then I'm free. I belong to no one!"

Jail sentence? Is that what he thought this was? "Damon, you are a minor. You cannot be in charge of yourself. By law, a responsible adult must have custody of you. Right now, technically you probably belong to CPS in the State of Texas."

"No, I want to be free." Damon was resolute.

Peter was getting frustrated, "Free to do what Damon? Live in the streets? Sleep in whatever hole you can find to crawl in? Eat out of dumpsters? Tell me Damon, what are you going to do if you're free and on your own? What kind of future do you see for yourself?"

Damon slumped; there was no future in the streets. "Why are you asking me? You're the adult; you can do this without my consent."

Peter knew where he was going with that. "Because I know you Damon. If you don't agree with this, then first chance you get you will play 'rabbit' on me and disappear down the first hole you find! Then El and I will be held legally responsible for your actions. Now, do you want to find your mother's killers or not?"

Damon studied Peter. How does this man do this? Neal was supposed to be the con, but this dude was talking him into another agreement against his will! "Fu…" he started, and then ducked and covered his ears before one could be grabbed again. Jones looked down at him, smiling. Damon slowly sat back up and uncovered his ears. "Okay."

"Okay what Damon?" Peter wanted him to say it.

"Okay, I agree to let you and Mrs. Burke have custody of me." He sounded dejected. Suddenly he sat up, "How do you know someone in the BAU is not the killer?"

Peter responded, "Got that covered, we brought photographs of the team members for you to look at. Jones!" He waved Jones forward.

"But I told you, I don't know what he looks like!"

"But you indicated you know what he does not look like." This was another reason Peter believed Damon saw something in that black space he's blocked out.

Jones spread the photos of the BAU members in front of Damon. He asked why they showed him photos of females when they knew it was a dude; he looked at them like they were stupid. Peter informed him that he did not know which members would be present when he was questioned and wanted Damon to be familiar with all faces. Peter saw his fear and told him he would have team members with him in the same situation, and assured him it would be alright.

Damon studied all the photos, he lingered a little on Hotchner, "He has killer's eyes, but it's not him." Then he studied Reid. "He's too young to be an agent, at least too young for BAU. He looks like he's barely out of high school."

Peter smiled. "He's some genius kid, couple PhD's, I think. Youngest member ever to join the BAU, joined when he was 23."

Damon smirked. "He looks like a geek. Neal should give him some fashion lessons."

Peter laughed and so did everyone else; Neal preened. Peter wondered if Damon had actually intended to make a joke, he wasn't smiling.

Now that Damon was compliant, it was time to create his new ID, Peter spoke up. "Okay, everyone, we need to make an ID and background scenario for Damon, any suggestions?"

Damon informed him that Damon was his name and he would use no other. It had no association to Stephen or his family and no one could make the connection. That agreed on, last name was discussed, Damon didn't care, he never had a last name that was really his anyway. Neal kind of winced on that statement.

They just started throwing questions, answers and ideas; it was hard to tell who said what:

"Why would Peter and El suddenly have a child in their home?"

"Godparents, natural parents died; no known blood relatives."

"Nope, just Peter, El wasn't around yet when Damon was born."

"If they were close enough friends to make Peter godfather, why haven't they kept in touch with each other?"

"He was friends with the father, father died when Damon, say, two." Damon liked that, said he wouldn't have to make up any 'Daddy' stories that way.

"Why not stay in touch with the mother?"

"The father and Peter were close, but not the mother, when he died she moved and they lost touch."

"Where'd she move?'

Damon chipped in, "Out west, I'm no Yankee."

"You can't be from Texas."

"Okay, make me from Missouri, they're far enough from Texas and still redneck enough to cover me." Everyone stopped and looked at him on that one, 'redneck'?

This is what Peter had hoped for; he wanted Damon to be involved in the making of his new ID so he would be more accepting of it. The question and answer continued.

"Where in Missouri?"

"I'm from a small town, I'm no city slicker."

"Can't be too small a town, they would remember you."

"Find a medium sized town for him. Small enough for his 'redneckness' large enough for his street smarts." Everyone but Damon snickered at that.

"Birth date?" Now that was a problem, with adults they avoided month date and year, Damon was young, and it limited their variance.

"We have to keep it within 6 months."

Damon alerted on that, "You mean I can be 6 months older!"

Peter thought about what that would imply, he would be able to smoke at the age of 17 ½ and drink at 20 ½, no his law oriented mind could not tolerate that. "No, we have to go younger with him."

Damon retorted, "Why?"

Peter wasn't about ready to explain the smoking drinking dilemma, Damon would argue against going younger if he brought that up. "Because Damon, you do not look your age as it is. There is no way you are going to pass for older then you are. There will be no problem passing you for younger." Damon pouted. "Besides, you spent your last six months in limbo, this way you get to repeat them, hopefully they will be better." Damon reluctantly accepted that.

The basic scenario finished, Peter told Diana to mop up any missing details. He thought that went rather well. Damon seemed to have settled down and accepted the situation, but he was never really sure what went on in Damon's head. He came up with some of the strangest ideas.

Just then Neal spoke up, "What about a middle name? I think that if Peter and this man were such close friends that he would make him the godfather of his first-born son, he would name the boy after Peter. 'Damon Peter'."

Peter stared at Neal. What was he trying to do? He knew Neal had ulterior motives, but what?

Damon stared too. He wasn't sure he liked that…

Jones and Diana thought it was a great idea. Peter reluctantly agreed, it made sense, and everyone looked at Damon. After all it would be his name, not many get to choose their names.

Damon looked around, everyone waiting for him to say yes. He really didn't want to insult Agent Burke; he had to live with him… "Fu…" He covered his ears and looked around for Jones. He was too far away. _Whew_! "Okay, I don't care, just so I'm Damon."

Peter was really impressed by that ear thing. He must ask Jones.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer**: White Collar belongs to USA Network and Jeff Eastin.: Criminal Minds is the property of CBS, the actors, producers, and writers of the show.

**DAMON** (9)

*** Peter was really impressed by that ear thing. He must ask Jones. ***

It took a couple days to get all the paperwork done. Diana walked into Peter's office and dropped the folder on his desk. "We need to get these custody papers signed so I can get them over to the courthouse to be filed. Is El on her way?"

"Thanks Diana, she'll be here in a few." He opened the file and pulled out the custody paperwork and scanned through them. It all looked in order. He sighed, once these where signed and filed, he would be totally and legally responsible for Damon. He looked over at the boy. As usual, the boy was watching his every move. He signed. "You're turn, Damon." And he passed the paperwork to Damon, showing him where to sign.

Damon was suspicious. "Kids don't sign custody papers."

"This kid does. When you sign this Damon, you give your legally binding promise on paper that you accept me and El as your legal guardians." He really needed the kid's full cooperation in this.

"And if I don't."

"Then this won't be filed and we don't take legal custody of you." Does the kid understand how many man-hours have been invested in creating the background to make this work?

"But I still get the new ID, right?"

"Nope. It's a package deal, Damon."

"I don't want to sign it."

Peter was losing his patience with this miscreant. Just then, El walked in. "Hi, boys!" she ruffled Damon's hair; she couldn't wait to cut it, and kissed Peter. Then she looked at both of their faces. "Is there a problem?"

Irritably Peter answered, "Yes, Damon is having second thoughts. He doesn't want to sign the custody forms."

She turned to Damon. "Is that true Damon?"

Damon looked down at his hands, he couldn't use 'the look' on her!

"Damon, what is the problem? You don't like my cooking? You prefer food out of garbage cans?"

Damon's head flew up, she was an awesome cook! He started to stammer a response, paused, sighed, and then got up to sign the document. He couldn't stand against her… He hesitated; he had never signed his name before. Not this name. He signed it slowly working through the new signature, double checking Henderson to make sure he spelled it right.

El gave him a quick hug, "Good boy!" Then she signed her name.

Peter wasn't sure if he should smile or cry. He handed Damon his new ID card. Damon studied it, Damon P. Henderson. That's who he was now, Damon Henderson. He started to put the card in his pocket.

El stopped him, "Wait! You might want to use this." She handed him a new wallet. He thanked her politely, almost smiled, and placed the ID in the wallet, took a double take when he saw the $20 bill in there. Then he did give El the slightest of smiles, and placed the wallet in his pocket. He thanked her again.

Diana grabbed the paperwork so she could get to the court in time to file it today. She was going to hand deliver it to make sure it was done right.

El was in a cheerful mood. "Alright boys, let's go!" She looked Damon in the eye. "No shenanigans, right Damon?"

Damon looked at the two of them; this is new, _what was going on?_ "N… no Ma'am." Peter grabbed Damon's shoulder_, well, at least it wasn't his arm,_ he thought, and guided him towards the door.

First stop was the barber shop. Peter kept a firm grip on the boy. Damon tried to pull back_, why were they here?_ El started telling them how she wanted Damon's hair cut. "I… I don't need a hair cut!" he pleaded.

El messed up his hair, "Nonsense, Damon, you needed a hair cut months ago! If you think I'm going to let my godson run around with hair like this, you better think again." He moaned as Peter guided him to the chair and the barber proceeded to de-mane him. Peter was amazed out how easy the boy was to handle around El. If he had to do this by himself, he probably would have had to body slam the boy into the chair and tie him down to get his hair cut.

When they got in the car, El glanced back at Damon in the back seat and told Peter to make sure Damon and Neal were never seen in public together if they wanted to keep his identity hidden. With his hair cut to a decent style, he looked more like Neal then ever.

Next stop was a department store, and not a Wal-Mart like Stephen and his mom used to go to. El started picking out clothes and told Damon to try them on. Damon looked at Peter with eyes pleading not make him do this.

"Cowboy up, Damon, El is in shopping mode and there is no stopping her! Better you then me!" and pushed him toward the changing booths.

Damon saw khakis, pants and button up shirts both long and short sleeve in the pile, "Ma'am, that's not my style. This is what I wear." And indicated the t-shirt and jeans he was wearing.

"Nonsense, Damon, those are play clothes, you're in New York now. You need to have outfits appropriate for this area. My godson will not look like a Missouri redneck!"

Damon really thought she was really overdoing this godson thing, it was just a made up story!

He tried on way too many outfits, he was getting restless. El picked up on that and grabbed what she intended to purchase and headed for check out. Damon saw the amount of items she was buying and protested; he had seen the price tags. "N… no, Ma'am, that is too, much! I don't need that much!"

"Nonsense, Damon, this is barely enough, but it's a decent start."

"But, Ma'am, it's too expensive!" There was enough in the cart to pay half a month's rent back in Texas.

El laughed and hugged Damon. "You silly boy. It's nothing we can't afford."

Damon thought they must be rich, they lived in that huge mansion and could afford this much for a temporary kid.

They made one more stop at a shoe store, Damon groaning at having to try on more stuff and the money spent. Finally, they headed home, when they got into the house, Peter told Damon to take the packages up to his room and put his new clothes away. Damon looked at him, shocked. _Was this a trick?_ "In my room?"

"Yes, in your room. And shower up, your sleep outfit is on the bed."

Damon ran upstairs before Peter changed his mind. When he entered his bedroom, he saw his sleep outfit, boy's blue pajamas! He never thought he would be happy to see pajamas! He laughed, and then looked around to make sure no one heard him.

When Damon finished upstairs he went back down and found Satch and started hugging and petting him. Peter heard him say softly; hoping no one else would hear him, "Look Satch, blue!" Peter quietly laughed.

When Peter went to bed that night he was a little worried. This was the first time Damon had access to clothes. The alarm system would not stop Damon from running; just inform him that he did. But Damon appeared to be really exhausted after all that shopping and he knew that feeling. When El made him accompany her to go shopping for him, well, Peter thought it might equate torture.

***WC***

Damon was worn out. When he went to sleep he went into a deep sleep. A good hard deep sleep, one that took him deep into the dream…

Peter was awakened by the scream. He ran up to Damon's room, heard the gagging as he entered, grabbed the trashcan, and rushed to the back of the room. He got there in time to catch most of it, but some went down the front of the boy's pajamas. When he was done, Peter guided him to the bathroom for clean up. "My pajamas…" Damon was almost crying.

Peter reassured him, trying to help him take them off, but the boy did not want to take them off. "It's alright Damon, I'll get you something else to put on"

Damon whined, "I don't want to wear the pink ones."

Peter wanted to laugh, so that was the problem. "No, not the pink ones, we'll find a t-shirt, Okay?"

Damon let him help take off his pajama top then. Peter hadn't seen the boy's bare chest since that short glance the first night. He was still skinny, but looked a little better. Most of the soars and bruises had completely healed. Peter saw there would be very little scarring; that was good. Peter guided him back to the bedroom, found a t-shirt, not pink, and helped him put it on. Peter thought that when he was in this condition, how much like a young child he acted. When he tried to guide him to the bed, he resisted.

"No, downstairs. I need Satch." Peter made sure Damon got downstairs safely, then stood there a couple minutes and watched him hug the dog. Peter was shocked to realize he was feeling somewhat jealous of the dog. He went back upstairs to bed. El rolled over and hugged him. Well, at least he had El.

***WC***

The next morning, when Damon woke up, he did not have to wait for Peter to get his clothes for him. He went upstairs on his own and got ready for the day. When he came back downstairs El stopped him in his tracks.

"Oh no. You are not going to Peter's office looking like a street bum. Get back up stairs and put on some pants and a short sleeve button up shirt." He looked at her, stunned. These clothes had been fine for the last week!

"Move!" Damon turned and ran back up the stairs. "And don't forget your belt!" She hollered after him.

When he came back down, she took one look and said "Tuck in your shirt." Damon complied. He felt extremely uncomfortable. This was Sunday-Go-To-Meeting attire! Something only worn a couple hours a week!

El beamed at him. "Now you look like a proper city kid. Come eat. Be careful not to mess up your clothes." That's another reason Damon didn't like fancy clothes!

Peter couldn't help but look at him. He was trying hard the see the dirty street urchin he had brought home, what just 10 days ago? This kid had no resemblance. Then he looked at Damon's eyes. Yep, it was the same kid, maybe the eyes were not quite as hard and cold, but they were the same eyes.

"Morning Damon. You look sharp." Damon glared at him. _Yep, same eyes_.

When they arrived at White Collar, everyone stopped to look a Damon's new look. Everyone complemented him. But in his child's mind he thought they were all laughing at him, and the compliments were making fun of him. He ran up to Peter's office and hid behind his desk.

Neal saw him and went into the office. "Hey, Damon. Why are you hiding?"

"Because I look like a geek."

Neal smiled, "Trust me Damon; you do not look like a geek. Actually, you look pretty darn good. I'm not really sure I like you dressing like that…"

That made Damon curious. "Why not?"

Neal flashed his patented smile. "Because I'm supposed to be the best looking guy in White Collar, and I don't know if I can handle the competition!" He could see Damon was warming up. "Come on out. Let me get a good look at you." Damon slowly stood up. "Damon, you look au courant. Remember, I'm the clothes horse, I would know. Now you look like you belong around here. Before you looked like an outsider."

"Really?"

"Really." Neal was feeling pretty darn good. He was the one reassuring Damon, not Peter. And Damon was responding to him. "Hey, kid, sit down. Let me show you some tricks."

Damon sat down and Neal pulled out a coin and made it disappear and reappear. Damon asked Neal if he had another coin, and Neal gave him one, smiling, the kid wanted to try to copy him! Damon repeated the tricks Neal did. Neal was impressed, the kid was pretty good. They spent the time going through several slight-of-hand moves. Damon already knew a lot of them, those he didn't know Neal taught him. He picked it up fast.

"Damon, you are pretty darn good at this!"

"It's in my blood."

Neal beamed like a Cheshire cat!


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer**: White Collar belongs to USA Network and Jeff Eastin.: Criminal Minds is the property of CBS, the actors, producers, and writers of the show.

**DAMON** (10)

*** "Damon, you are pretty darn good at this!"

*** "It's in my blood."

*** Neal beamed like a Cheshire cat! ***

Just then Peter came in. He'd waited as long as he could because he had noticed Damon was finally communicating with Neal and did not want to disturb them. But he had work to do, and that was his desk they were sitting at. He asked Damon to move from his chair, and reminded Neal that he did have a case to work on. Damon moved to the chair Neal had been sitting on and picked up a book to 'read', Constitutional Law.

Peter spoke up, "By the way, Damon, we have an appointment with the BAU tomorrow. We'll be getting up bright and early tomorrow, it's a long drive." Damon froze. He did not want to go there! He glanced at the door. "No, Damon. You are not running. It will be all right. We fixed that, remember. Relax." Maybe he shouldn't have told him until tonight. Damon looked at him… pleading? "I promised to take care of you and I will, Damon." Peter went back to work; Damon 'read' his book.

The following morning at 5 AM, Peter went downstairs to wake Damon up in the dog bed. "Come on buddy, get up. We leave at 5:30 sharp. We'll eat breakfast on the way." Damon sat up and rubbed his eyes, then tried to lie back down. "Peter laughed. "No can do! Come on, you can sleep in the car." He helped Damon to his feet and headed him upstairs. And Damon did fall asleep, not 20 minutes into the drive. Peter knew he needed the sleep. Not one of them had had an unbroken night's sleep since Damon arrived; thanks to his dreams. And Damon has been living with this for months. Most times for him and El, it was just lie in bed and listen, Damon had to work through it.

When they got to Quantico, Damon grabbed his ball cap and pulled it as low as he could to hide his face. He no longer had the protection of dirt and hair to hide his features. Peter wasn't sure it was necessary, but if it made the kid feel better… They went into Special Agent Jason Gideon's office and Peter and he did a quick catch up. Then Peter started into the real reason for the visit.

Peter had Damon remove his hat, Gideon remembered the face but it had been a few months and several cases ago… Peter reminded him "Stephen Atkin, but his name is Damon now. He has an interesting story; would you like to bring in any other team members before he tells you?"

Damon pleaded with Peter, "Not Agent Hotchner."

Peter glanced at him confused, "Why not?"

"His eyes, I don't like his eyes. He has killer's eyes."

Peter explained to Gideon about showing Damon pictures of all the BAU team members before coming. Gideon smiled at Damon, "How about Agents Morgan and Reid. Would you be comfortable with them?" Damon indicated he would.

Gideon was quite surprised to see Damon; he really thought Stephen was dead, or worse. He called in Agents Derek Morgan, and Spencer Reid, introduced them, and then they all went into the conference room. Before he sat down, Damon pushed his chair tight against Peter's. Peter was surprised, but he didn't mind, he kind of liked it, although he knew it was just because the boy was terrified. He opened his briefcase and showed the BAU members the WC WITSEC and custody paperwork, but they were not allowed to keep a copy. He also brought out a condensed Caffrey file. He explained that the reason for all would be revealed when they heard Damon's story. Gideon handed the files to Reid to read. With that done, Peter sat back and put his arm around Damon's shoulders. Gideon asked Damon to tell his story.

Damon told them Stephen's story. He told how Stephen had gone into the living room closet to find a board game for him and his mom to play; that's where they stored them. He told how Stephen had stayed in the closet when the agents came to eavesdrop, and the voice of the agent identifying himself as an agent, and the voice of the mean one were from two different men. When he came to the black part, Gideon asked him what he meant, and Damon thought a minute, looked at Peter for reassurance, and then told him that was the part Stephen hid from him. Stephen did not want him to see there. Whatever was in there, Damon knew that's what broke Stephen, so he didn't really want to see it. When Stephen tried to leave the closet that one time, he blocked the down from Damon, but not the up. Gideon asked him what was up there, and Damon thought, slowly the answer dawned on him, and he told them. Nothing… That was the problem, nothing was there! Stephen's pictures were supposed to be there. Stephen painted a lot because that made his mom happy, it was a Neal talent. Gideon asked how many pictures had been on the walls. Damon told him the walls were full of Stephen's pictures. All were his except one; Stephen's mom had a portrait of herself that Neal had painted. It was in her bedroom. Gideon informed Damon that the walls were empty. Was there any way to know what pictures had been there? Damon said she had taken a picture of every painting and kept them in a scrap book. Peter was very interested in that scrapbook.

When asked about the grey part Damon didn't know. He said he had all of Stephen's memories, except for the black part, but the grey was just confusing, it was like Stephen had just retreated inside, he didn't want to see out. When he got to the part about Stephen running from the McSwaggart's, he told how Stephen had just kept running, rest and run. He didn't know how to take care of himself, to find warm places to sleep, to find food. Damon said Stephen was not a survivor. He said Stephen was getting sick, and he was so hungry. He finally got hungry enough to walk up to a vending cart and steal a hot dog. Stephen did not steal, could not steal, and when he stole that hot dog and the huge burly vendor grabbed his arm and said "Gotcha! What's your name demon?" that was all he could take, Stephen vacated the premises, he un-assed the AO, he flew the coop. Peter was a little disturbed by the casual way this was stated. Gideon asked Damon if that's where he came in, what was his first memory as Damon?

"This little shrimp-ass vendor had a hold of my arm and said 'Gotcha, what's your name demon?' and I said 'Damon' and rammed my knee into his stuff, grabbed a second hot dog and ran away and enjoyed my hot dogs!" He stared at them, daring any of them to tell him he could not maintain this abandoned property. He had squatter's rights! Peter was getting a little worried if they would let him keep Damon. He was wondering if he should keep Damon. But Gideon didn't really seem fazed by it. He asked Damon if he was a survivor. Hell, yeah, he wasn't like Stephen, he knew how to take care of himself!

Gideon went on to ask about any relatives on his mother's side. Damon told him Stephen had asked his mother once and she informed him there was no one he would want to know. He didn't even know her real name. His known blood line stopped at Neal and Cindy.

Meanwhile, Reid had been going over the files Peter had brought with him. He noticed the DNA analysis on Neal then compared it to the DNA analysis they had on Stephen. Being the genius that he was, he didn't need a computer to help. He announced his findings, "Just for the record, I compared DNA on Caffrey and Stephen. Caffrey is positively Stephen's father. Damon, can I get a set of your fingerprints to compare to Stephen's?"

Damon balked "Why?" He did not want them to have his prints!

Reid explained "Just to forestall any doubts that anyone may have and I will destroy them as soon as a match was made."

Damon looked at Peter, who assured him it would be alright. Damon felt funny having his prints taken, like a criminal or something, he never had them taken before; Stephen was in a catatonic stupor when they did his.

A few minutes later, Neal announced as everyone already expected, "Stephen's and Damon's fingerprints are an exact match. Damon do you want to shred your own prints so you can be guaranteed it's done." Damon got up and took the prints to the shredder, he even checked what came out to make double sure. That done, he went back to sit by Peter.

Gideon asked Peter how he and Damon had gotten together, and Peter told him about the demon storm that entered the office.

Gideon frowned at Damon, "You pretended you didn't know how to use a weapon?"

"I… uh…" Damon looked down, what did this agent know?

Peter was confused, "Pretended…?"

Gideon turned to Morgan, "Didn't you talk to the town's gunsmith?"

Morgan smiled, he knew Damon was busted, "Sure did. He told me that he has been instructing you in the use of weapons, both hand guns and rifles for the last couple years. Bragged how proficient you were. That you could break down, clean, and reassemble several different models. He's taken you out to the firing range several times. Says you are an excellent shot when supported, decent without support. He believes once you get your muscles built up, you will be an excellent marksman. Damon, I got the impression that you are a much better shot then Spencer here." Reid winced, sore subject.

Peter looked at Damon, "Is this true?" Damon just stared at his hands.

Gideon was curious, "Damon, why did you act like you didn't know how to handle a weapon?"

Damon looked at Gideon, then to Peter. Peter tilted his head, "Yes, Damon, why did you?

Damon sighed, "Because there's nothing scarier than a kid with a weapon that doesn't know what the heck he is doing!" They all nodded to that. "You don't know if or when he'll pull the trigger, no idea where the bullet would go… There is no body language to read. I wanted to scare the truth out of Neal." He hesitated, "If I had come in there, handling the gun right, you would have been more apt to shoot me! But no one wants to shoot a kid that's too young and dumb to know what they're doing."

Peter was really looking hard at him. "Why were you playing with the safety?"

"To make sure it was on! I was scared to death I might accidently shoot someone, and I sure didn't want to commit patricide!"

"I have been wearing my weapon in the house since you got there because I was afraid you might do something stupid. I'm not sure if I'm more or less afraid now."

Damon glanced up sideways at him, apologetic, "I know, I'm sorry…" And then, in a brighter voice, "I can clean it for you!"

"We'll discuss that when we get home!" What else was this boy hiding?

Gideon was smiling; he liked the way these two interacted. "Damon, can you wait out in the waiting room while I talk to Peter?"

Damon froze. "Why?" Peter felt the tension in his body, and tried to reassure him with a little squeeze.

"There are some aspects of the case I would like to discuss with him alone."

Peter could feel Damon's fear. "You want to take me away from the Burkes! You want to lock me up!" Peter was holding him tight now, trying to sooth him, trying to calm him.

Gideon sat back in his chair. "I have no intentions of removing you from Peter's safekeeping. He was smart in gaining custody before you arrived to prevent any argument on your disposition. I have been observing the interplay between you two since you arrived, and I see no problems. No Damon, I am not going to take you from Peter."

Damon looked at Peter, "Promise?"

Peter hugged Damon tight. "I promise Damon that no one is going to take you." He held Damon's chin up. "Now promise me you will wait in the waiting room for me."

"I promise." He slid off his chair and headed for the door, glancing back at Peter on the way out.

Morgan announced he had some work to do and left.

Reid stood up, "If you don't mind Gideon, I'll go wait with Damon. We could play some chess." Gideon nodded and Reid headed for the door.

Peter called after him, "Damon doesn't play chess." Reid glanced back, smiled and left.

Gideon had a smirk on his face, "He has pulled the wool over your eyes."

Perplexed, Peter turned to him, "What…?"

"He is an avid chess player."

***OK, readers I really am having trouble with this and a couple following chapters. I'm trying to work in Damon's past. Please let me know if this is working OK. Thank you for your interest in my story!***


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer**: White Collar belongs to USA Network and Jeff Eastin.: Criminal Minds is the property of CBS, the actors, producers, and writers of the show.

**DAMON** (11)

*** "He is an avid chess player." ***

Gideon started explaining. The BAU was given the case when the bodies of the other three boys had been found in the Hudson River. Peter groaned, for the boys and for how this would affect Damon if he ever found out. They thought they had a serial killer, but when BAU got involved, they surmised rather quickly that Stephen was the key. With Damon's added information, Gideon thought it was quite possible that hired guns were sent to grab Stephen and did not know what he looked like. Maybe they had taken the captured boys to whoever wanted Stephen in the New York area for identification. There was no indication of abuse on the boys other then tie marks on wrists and ankles and, of course, the fatal gunshot wounds. To find out who wanted Stephen, they had to know who Stephen was. They found nothing on Cindy Atkin before Texas. They found interesting information on Rick Atkin. He had died 8 months before Damon was conceived, and had never been married. His family signed a statement disowning any claim to Stephen. They started canvassing the town to try to find any clues.

STEPHEN

Stephen was the only child of Cindy, a paralegal. She did not make a lot of money, but she made enough to keep her and her son comfortable. She rented a two bedroom pre-fabricated home on the outskirts of town. Her only close neighbor, Sylvia was also Stephen's babysitter. She had been watching him since he was an infant. Cindy doted on her son; all of her free time was spent with him, teaching him and encouraging him. Sylvia said he was an intelligent child and with Cindy's constant teaching he had learned quite young. She laughingly said she couldn't remember which happened first, take his first step, or read his first word. And he perfected both quickly. Cindy used children's books to start him, but she upgraded those rapidly. When Stephen was about four and a half years old he got hold of one of Sylvia's books, Stephen King's 'The Shinning' and read it before Sylvia even noticed he had it. It scared him half to death. Nightmares! He was too young to understand the difference between fiction and non-fiction and thought the story was real. Cindy instructed him that until he was older, he was only to read non-fiction. And Stephen would never disobey his mother. Cindy was able to instill such a love of learning in the boy that he devoured non-fiction like it was candy. Cindy kept him in a constant supply of reading material.

When Stephen was six, Cindy registered him in school. It didn't take the school long to realize he did not belong in the first grade, so he was given a test, he passed. He was given the second grade test, he passed. Third grade, pass. Fourth, fifth, sixth. It took a couple days to give these tests and word got out about the boy 'genius'. Mrs. Walker was on the school board and she was wealthy. She found out about this boy with a single poor mom and decided to step in. She decided Cindy wasn't fit to raise a child of this quality, not taking into consideration it was Cindy's teaching that had made him that way. Mrs. Walker claimed that she had the money and the means to send him to the best schools and universities, not Cindy. She wanted him, probably for the personal status she thought it would give her. And she might have had the power to succeed. She demanded Stephen be given an IQ test to see just how smart he was.

Well, Stephen was bright; he understood what was going on around him. He knew this lady thought he was too smart to stay with his mother and wanted to take him away from her. He did not want to take the test; he did not want to leave his mother, who he adored. But they made him take it. He scored 101. Mrs. Walker was livid! That was proof Cindy was unfit, she didn't let him get enough sleep or get a decent breakfast before the test. She made them administer a second test, making sure he had decent sleep and food first. He was really pissed. He scored 63. Mrs. Walker dropped her campaign; Cindy pulled Stephen out of school and placed him in home study. She started him in first grade and Stephen never took a test to advance him past his age level again.

Since it was a small town, and Stephen was a bright boy, he was pretty much allowed to have the run of the town after that. Most mornings he spent in the library, taking a few minutes to do whatever work he needed to for home school on the library's computer. Cindy did not have a home computer, nor did she have a TV, she said TV numbed the brain. When Stephen was done with the library computer he read whatever non-fiction his heart desired. He spent hours in the reference section, leafing through the texts. Once the librarian asked him what he was doing, she knew he wasn't reading, he was too young, and he told her he was looking at pictures. She laughed and told him there were no pictures. Stephen being a very amiable happy boy that won the heart of any adult he met; smiled at her and said sure there were pictures. He turned back a few pages and found one where the sentence breaks just happened to form a heart and showed it to her. She thought that was just the cutest thing!

Cindy was a greatly respected lady in the town. She knew her boy needed to learn 'manly' things so over the years she approached various men around the town, asking them to help. Among them being the gunsmith, a rancher and a lawman.

In the afternoon's Stephen would visit various locations around the town, to include his 'instructors'. He spent a lot of time in the town square playing chess with the elderly that gathered there. He won his share, and lost his share while keeping them entertained with his constant chatter. Once every week or two, he would spend a day at the rancher's. The rancher adored Stephen; he wished his grandkids were half as helpful as he was. Stephen learned to ride, and helped to gentle a few horses. The rancher said he had a knack for it. Stephen helped feed the cattle, muck out stalls, etc. He tried to help with the heavy work as best he could, but with his small frame… the rancher just smiled.

The police officer let him ride with him sometimes, it was a very small town, and taught him a little hand to hand fighting. He used to let him play with his handcuffs and Stephen learned how to pick them.

All the adults in town adored him, with his outgoing friendly personality, his bright blue eyes, and his heart-stopping smile. The children hated him; he didn't have to go to school. They called him a brown-nose and a geek, among other things. They really got tired of hearing parents say 'why can't you be more like Stephen?' So Stephen learned to avoid them, he couldn't fight them, his mother disapproved of fighting, so he learned how to outmaneuver them, how to disappear through cracks in the fence, to run fast, and how to climb high in trees. Sylvia said he got really good at 'disappearing' when other kids showed up!

In all the years Sylvia knew them, Stephen and his mother never fought and never disagreed. They lived and breathed for each other. Stephen obeyed her every order without question.

BACK TO THE BAU

When Gideon got done telling Peter about Stephen, Peter was at a loss for words. He sure did not sound like the Damon he knew.

After a couple minutes, Gideon spoke again, "You think Damon has dissociative identity disorder don't you?"

Peter looked confused; he's a mathematician not a psychologist, "Excuse me?"

"More commonly referred to as split personality."

"Well, it has crossed my mind…" And more than once, he thought.

"He doesn't"

Peter was confused "He doesn't"?

"No. He wants to; he wants everyone to think he does. But, no. Except for the black times, he has full memory recall. And even the black periods are not a memory loss, but buried. Also, a split personality maintains both personalities within, switching back and forth. Once Damon claimed he was Damon, he never became Stephen again. "

"Why would he want a split personality?"

"He thinks Stephen is soft, weak, (Gideon shrugged) a chicken, so he denies him." Peter remembered 'I'm a coward like Stephen' "And Damon had to be tough and strong to survive. What he did was grow up at the hand of a vendor. You are not the same person you were as a child; there are things you do today that you wouldn't consider as a child. Stephen couldn't steal to live, Damon could and I'm sure still can." Peter frowned at that. "But you and I had years to make the transition. And many change their name as they go, Petey, Pete, and Peter. Damon had to do it in front of that vendor, and the vendor gave him his name in the process. It's not so much Stephen left, as Damon claims, but his gentle side was buried, and the tough side, never allowed to be shown before, came forward. I'm over simplifying it, but that's basically what it boils done to."

"When you talk to Damon about his past, always refer to it as 'his' past, 'his' mother. When he responds with Stephen, accept it. He'll never be all Stephen again, I doubt if he will ever use the name again, he has changed, his life experiences have changed him. But as he feels more comfortable, and safe, he will allow more of his 'soft' side to show."

Peter was relieved; it wasn't as bad as he thought.

Gideon went on, "Don't get me wrong, Peter, Damon will need some counseling, probably a lot. But he's far from crazy." Gideon smiled, "He might drive you crazy."

Peter laughed, "Well, he's doing a darn good job of that! There is a problem I would like to ask you about." And Peter proceeded to tell him about the nightmares and Damon refusing to sleep on the bed and sleeping with the dog.

Gideon shrugged, "Let the dog sleep in his bed."

"Satch is trained to stay off the furniture and stay downstairs."

"How old is he?"

"About 1 ½ years, I think."

"Retrain him."

Peter thought about that, it's such a simple solution. Why didn't he think of it? He'd have to talk to El. "What about the photo album of the pictures, do you have access to that? I really would like a copy of those pictures. Whoever did this wanted Damon and took Damon's paintings. That sure sounds like family to me. And who knows, maybe there's something about the pictures. Art is in my area of expertise, and Neal's."

"I agree on the family thing, and if we find the album, we will send you copies of the pictures. Are you sure there's no one on the Caffrey side who knew about him."

"Neal says no. And if any did, he says they wouldn't care enough to find him. But why would someone from Cindy's side kill their own blood? It makes no sense."

"No, but we'll look harder into her. We'll check out that Sue Ann name Neal gave you." Then Gideon leaned forward and tossed Peter a file, "Now we come the hard part."

Peter picked up the file, glanced at Gideon, and opened it. It had Stephen's medical information. Stephen was found in the closet, unconscious. His mother had been dead five days. Stephen was severely dehydrated and in serious condition bordering on critical. When they cleaned him up, they found material in his hair and his upper shirt, and some smeared on the bottom of the shirt; they believed he wiped off his face. There were flecks of the material in his mouth. They collected the material and sent it to the lab, it was analyzed as… Peter put the file down. He made a few short gasps for air.

Gideon quietly stated, "There's a restroom right through that door if you need it."

"No. No, I'm okay, I just need a minute." He pictured Damon… HIS Damon… in that closet… watching his mother's brains flying into his face… He got up and ran to the bathroom.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer:** White Collar belongs to USA Network and Jeff Eastin. Criminal Minds is the property of CBS, the actors, producers, and writers of the show.

**Claimer:** Damon is mine.

**DAMON 12**

*** "No. No, I'm okay, I just need a minute." He pictured Damon… HIS Damon… in that closet… watching his mother's brains flying into his face… He got up and ran to the bathroom. ***

After he was finished, Peter came back out, looking somewhat sheepish; he was a seasoned agent, he shouldn't have lost it that way! He reached out and closed the file. Gideon told him it was a copy made for him and he could finish it when he was ready. "But I would not let Damon see it. Lock it away safe from him." Peter thought that goes without saying.

Gideon leaned forward, face serious. "Peter, have you thought about what happens to Damon when this is over?"

Peter hesitated."I don't know. He's Neal's son."

"But Neal can't take him. CPS would take him away from Neal as soon as they got wind of it; he's a felon on release and can be sent back at any time. And from these records on him you showed us, I'm not sure if I wouldn't be the one to put a bug in CPS's ear."

"He's not that bad…"

"Not that bad! Peter your signature is on most of these reports. He might be fine while he's got his tracking anklet on, but what happens when it comes off? Damon needs a stable home."

"Damon and you have bonded." Peter shook his head. "You have. It's not a strong bond yet, but it's there. He trusts you. Oh, when he feels safe, he will give you grief, but when he's frightened he looks to you, I watched him. Peter, when you read that file as a seasoned agent you're reaction was because it is personal. Because you are attached. Just think about it. Think about Damon's future."

Peter was having enough trouble dealing with Damon's present, and now his past. His future? "I'll have to think about it." With that, they got up and shook hands, the meeting was over. Peter went out into the waiting room to collect Damon.

***WC***

When Reid left Gideon's office, he went into the waiting room and saw Damon studying the watercolor paintings on the wall. Gideon loved to collect them. "You like those?"

Damon glanced back and saw it was Reid, "Hi Agent Reid. Yeah, they're pretty cool. Stephen never painted with watercolors. I noticed all are of predatory species."

"That's what Gideon likes. I guess that's because that's what we do. We hunt predators."

"Because you are predators."

Reid grinned, "I guess we are. By the way, call me Spencer. Do you want to play a game of chess?"

Damon started to say he didn't know how and then studied Reid. "You've been to Texas, haven't you?"

"Yes, Damon. I know you can play." Reid proceeded to set up the game. Reid gave Damon the white side. While they played, Reid talked of various subjects. Damon enjoyed listening to him. He was interesting and had a comfortable non-threatening personality, and wondered how the heck he got into the BAU. It took awhile for the game to finish. Reid won, but Damon did make him work for it.

Reid studied Damon, while he reset the board, "You know, that's exactly the way I used to play with my mother when I wanted her to win. She would chide me if she saw me holding back, so I had to make her think I was playing at my best. You made exactly the same moves I would have made."

Damon was angry. He had let his guard down with the small talk. He had forgotten this guy was a behavioral analysis and studied people for a living. "That's because you played Stephen the White." He reached out and turned the board, black on his side. "Now play Damon the Black."

The game was on. It was a long game. Reid had trouble following Damon's strategy to counteract it; he was all over the board. When they were approaching their final battle positions, Peter and Gideon entered the waiting room. Damon jumped up, knocking the chess board to the floor. Reid could have sworn he had done it on purpose and said "That's okay, I had you in five."

Damon glanced at him."I had you in four." He then realized what he had said and stammered out "Ah… no, game over, I forfeit, you win." Reid looked at the fallen board, remembering the positions, thinking. Damon stood there studying Peter, looking for signs, knowing exactly where the door was.

"Ready to go home, Damon?"

Gideon knew precisely what the boy was thinking so he jokingly stated. "Go Damon, we don't want you, not after all the stuff Peter told us." He had a warm smile.

Peter motioned for Damon to come to him and Damon did. Peter put his hand on Damon's shoulder and Damon was thankful for the safety that the touch implied. "Yes Sir. I'm ready." They left the BAU.

After they left, Gideon turned to Reid and asked how the game went. Reid responded, "You know how you are always telling me to learn how to play outside the box?" Gideon nodded yes. "Well, I'm not sure if Damon knows where the box is." Gideon chuckled; he wondered just how smart the boy was.

Once Peter worked his way thru the city streets and got on I-95, Damon turned to him and asked "What did you talk about when I left?"

'The closet' flashed into Peter's mind…, he regrouped, "George Washington."

Damon gave him a sideways glace, "Okay, dumb question. What did he tell you about me?"

"What do you think he said?"

Damon was nervous, "I don't know."

Peter was tired and 'the closet…', he looked out the window… "Tell me a story."

"What are you talking about?"

Peter glanced at Damon, and repeated, "Tell me a story."

Damon looked at him, confused, "About what? Briar Rabbit?"

Peter laughed, "Actually, I think 'Alice in Wonder Land' would be more appropriate. But no, I want to know why you hate Neal so much."

Damon froze and looked at Peter. He thought a moment "Why?"

"Because it's important. Why do you hate Neal so much?"

Damon considered the question, looked at Peter, and then contemplated some more. "Do you really want to know?"

"Yes. Tell me."

"Because it kept me alive."

"Enlighten me. How?

Damon gave a deep sigh. "After I became me… when…" He hesitated, "Okay, it wasn't easy. I inherited a sick body, I had to take care of it, heal it. It…it… I thought about why, why I was there and I remembered because of Neal, it was because of him this happened. She wouldn't be dead if it wasn't for Neal."

"You wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for Neal."

"Okay, 'Catch 22', not the point. Right then all I could think was it was Neal's fault, and I developed a hate. It kept me going, kept me strong. A couple times, when things got hard, I thought if I could find him, maybe he would take me in. But then I got weaker, scared. When I remembered to hate him I got strong again. After a couple times of that, I realized that the hate gave me strength, so I fed it. I fed the hate, I stoked it, and I used it to give me the strength to go on. Hate is a strong driving force. It kept me alive. It kept me moving. It gave me purpose." He glanced at Peter. "By the time I got to your office the hate was so strong, so deep, burning inside, engulfing me. Filling me. Driving me. I… I… . "

Peter glanced at him; he wasn't talking like a kid. "Go on…"

"When I realized he didn't do it, it was like throwing a glass of water on an inferno. I couldn't just stop the hate. It had to burn down. Die down. Like a fire. But I don't hate him that much anymore."

"Okay, why else?"

Damon looked at him, perplexed, "Why else… ?"

"It goes back further, before…" The image of the closet flashed through his mind, he tried to push it away. "Before your mother died. Tell me."

Yes, Agent Burke was right, it did go back. But how do you explain it. How do you word it so she doesn't sound bad, he loved her so much. "She was a good mom… She was an awesome mom, but her Neal infatuation, well, it was a little much. Anything Stephen did that was a Neal talent, she praised him so greatly! I told you about the paintings, but also the magic tricks, sleight of hand, a Neal talent. He could make her laugh with delight. And he did love to make her happy. And chess…" He glimpsed at Peter.

Peter frowned at him, "You lied to Neal about that."

Damon became defensive, "No I didn't! I had never played chess." He lowered his voice. "Stephen did."

Peter scowled at him. "We'll discuss that later. Go on with your story."

"Well, anyway. She started Stephen on chess really young. And praised him so much as he improved on the game. But, well anything not Neal, she blew off. Stephen really loved going to the ranch. He was really good with the horses. He learned to ride. She didn't care, Neal didn't ride. He was so proud when he helped gentle a horse and was the first to ride it. He got no praise from her. When he went to the range and shot expert," He glanced at Peter. "Supported of course. He took the target home to show her. It had really tight shot group. He was so proud. She didn't care. It wasn't a Neal talent."

Peter wasn't so sure of that, he remembered Neal's expertise on that skeet shoot during the boiler room scam case.

Damon went on, "It… it was like she didn't love him because he was Stephen, I'm not sure if she even loved him because he was her son. I think she only loved him because he was Neal's son. Stephen was too dumb to see this" He sighed, "Maybe its better he didn't."

He thought some more, Peter saw he wasn't finished and waited for him to consolidate his thoughts.

"And then there was school, she didn't care that Stephen didn't go to school; she just put him in courses because it was the law. She wanted him to be smart, to learn, she was so good at teaching him the desire to learn, but Neal didn't graduate so she didn't care about a degree. I don't think Stephen ever would have gone to college, Neal didn't. Don't get me wrong, he didn't want to go to school, but college…" He exhaled, "He couldn't even have a dog because Neal didn't! I think she expected Stephen to live with her the rest of her life. And the bad part is; Stephen would have, because he would never hurt her by leaving."

Peter reflected on all that Damon had told him, it was kind of a strange situation. Aren't you supposed to raise your children to leave the nest? "But none of that was Neal's fault."

"I know, but you can't blame the one who was there, the one who took care of you, who protected you, loved you for whatever reason. It's easier to blame the one that's not there. Since I met Neal, I kind of like him. I'm trying to work through it, but it takes time. I cannot, will not blame Stephen's mom. She had her faults, but all in all, she was an awesome mom. For whatever reason, she did dedicate her life to Stephen. And he was happy." The last was stated longingly.

Peter had learned a lot about Damon that day; it would take a while to understand it all. It would take awhile to understand Damon.

*****OK, I think I'm finally done with the background check. Any reviews are highly appreciated!*****


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:** White Collar belongs to USA Network and Jeff Eastin. Criminal Minds is the property of CBS, the actors, producers, and writers of the show.

**Claimer:** Damon is mine.

**DAMON 13**

*** Peter had learned a lot about Damon that day; it would take a while to understand it all. It would take a while to understand Damon. ***

He glanced at Damon, "We're almost home. How about we call Elizabeth and have her meet us at a restaurant for dinner?"

"Not a fancy one?"

Peter laughed. "No just a nice Italian place El and I go to." Damon agreed.

They met El outside the restaurant. And again, Damon realized his definition of 'fancy' and the Burke's definition were different. 'Not fancy' to him was like a Denny's… at best an IHOP. But this place! He had never been inside a restaurant this nice, out back of a couple maybe, scrounging for food, but not inside. Peter had Damon slide to the inside of a booth, Damon wasn't trying to run but you never knew what could set him off. They were given menus; Damon looked at his, but shortly after that he set it down and said he wasn't hungry. Peter sternly informed Damon that he will eat and to find something he wanted. Damon reluctantly picked the menu back up found the cheapest item on it and announced that's what he wanted. El immediately picked up on what the kid was doing and informed him she would order for him. She was perplexed by his money conciseness; you'd think he did the bills. She didn't know that he used to, he was quite good with basic math. He even signed the checks when his mother was too busy to. He was pretty good at copying her signature, with her permission, of course.

They did small talk up until the time dinner was served, at which time, El looked at Peter and said "Well how did it go today? Did you learn anything?"

'The closet…' flew into Peter's mind and his stomach flipped, his food suddenly looked very unappealing. He had to get that picture out of his head. "We'll talk about that later, El." But not 'the closet'. He wasn't going to put that picture in her head. "Tell me about your day El, I want the hear **everything**."

His emphasis on 'everything' made El do a double take, but she told him. He prodded her for every little detail, wanting to fill his head with pleasant images while he ate. El was a little concerned, Peter had never shown this much interest in her work before.

***WC***

It had been a long day; Peter thought it had been a productive day. Damon was tired from all the stress of the day and went to bed, err… floor, early. After he left, Peter told El about Gideon recommending Satch sleep with Damon. She gaped at him, "That's an excellent idea! Why didn't you think of it?"

Peter grinned, "Because you're the smart one, you should have thought of it!"

He gave her a hug and kiss, and went to call Satch up the stairs. Satch was a well trained dog; he stood at the base of the stars looking at him. El suggested he use the leash. Peter got the leash and proceeded to coax and lead Satchmo. Poor Satchmo was confused; his master was making him do a 'bad' thing and he did not like being bad, he was a good dog! But he had two commands to go up the stairs; master and leash; and one command to stay downstairs; training. He unwillingly followed. Peter finally got him into Damon's room and tried to coax him onto the bed. Satchmo was really baffled. He did not want to do another 'bad' thing. Peter finally picked him up and put him on the bed. He immediately tried to get off, and Peter gave him a 'down, stay' command. Satchmo obeyed, reluctantly. Peter pulled down what covers he could and looked at Damon. Of course Damon was wide awake, watching the whole scene from under his table, looking just as confused as Satch.

"Well, are you coming to bed or not?" Peter asked.

Damon was stunned, "With Satch?"

Peter smiled, "Yes, with Satch. Come on."

At which point Damon came flying out from under the table and onto the bed, throwing his arms around Satchmo. Satch was happy, his boy was there, and it couldn't be a bad thing if his boy was there. Damon rose up on his knees to look at Peter. Peter thought he wanted to say something and waited. Damon wanted to… he was fighting the urge… he really wanted to… he tried to control it… Finally he gave into his impulse and threw his arms around Peter, "Thank you, Sir!"

Peter, surprised, hugged him back. "You're welcome, Damon. Now lie down and get some sleep." When he lay down, Peter pulled the covers over him. "Good night, Damon." Satchmo laid his head over Damon; he was going to guard his boy. As Peter left he realized he'd probably just lost his dog.

***WC***

The reason Damon slept on the floor was to prevent himself from going into a deep sleep. The deeper the sleep, the further he went into the dream. But he was on the bed now, he had Satch, he was exhausted… he went deep, deep into sleep. Satch felt his boy getting distressed, he couldn't figure out why, nothing was there. Nothing was there for him to attack and protect his boy! Finally, he nudged the boy until he woke up screaming. Peter rushed up the stairs, grabbing the trashcan. Damon was white, he was shaking and he was obviously upset, but he was not gagging. Satch had woken him just before he had reached that point. Peter comforted Damon; he was shaken enough to except it. While Peter held him, he thought about what Damon went through every night, 'the closet…' his stomach lurched. He was grateful the boy could not remember his dreams, thankful he blacked them out, 'the closet…' He wished he could black it out. When Damon settled down, he told him he would go downstairs and get a book for him, he could read in bed until he could go back to sleep. He did not want Damon and the dog back in the dog bed. He would have to remember to make sure Damon brought a book to bed with him every night. Then he went back to his own bed, exhausted.

Satchmo watched his master leave. He knew his boy and his master had been upset. He did not like his boy upset. He vowed he would wake his boy up quicker next time, he would take care of his boy, and he would protect him from the bad thing that comes to him in his sleep.

***WC***

It was Sunday morning. The Burke household was quiet as everyone did their own thing. Elizabeth spoke up. "Why don't we all go for a walk?"

Peter tilted his head doubtfully, "El, you sure that's a good idea?"

She turned to Damon. "You're not going to run away, are you Damon?"

Damon was trying to control his excitement. He wanted to go! Except for the Quantico and shopping, ugg, trips he'd only been let out to go from building to car. He was stir-crazy. He wanted to run, to jump, and to climb. He wanted to act like a kid. He knew he couldn't do that this time, but it was a start. He tried to control himself, he did not want Agent Burke to see his excitement; he might misinterpret it as wanting to run. "No Ma'am, I promise I will not run away."

Peter studied Damon's eyes. He saw the controlled excitement, but he could not see the 'rabbit', and agreed.

"Can we take Satch?" When Peter said 'yes'. "Can I hold the leash?"

Peter couldn't help but smile, he was acting like a 12 year old, a normal 12 year old, well almost. "Yes Damon, you can hold the leash."

They had a pleasant outing, except when Satch had to take care of business. Peter taught Damon how to 'curb' the dog, Damon being from a small town, had never heard of such a thing. And when Peter went to clean it up, Damon exclaimed, "Ewww, you have to pick it up?"

That afternoon, Neal came to visit.

"Hey Damon, I hear you can paint."

"No I can't."

Peter figured this was the time to approach the subject. "Damon, look at me."

Damon cringed, Agent Burke only said that when he wanted to get a point across, strongly, and it was usually something not to his liking. He looked at Peter. "Damon, whenever you are asked if you know how to do something, or have any understanding of something, you will respond with both you and Stephen's knowledge. Is that understood?" Damon didn't like that; it would be harder to hide things. "Is that understood?"

Damon responded resignedly, "Yes, Sir."

"Now, answer Neal again."

Damon turned back to Neal, "Stephen knows how, but I never have."

"I can bring over some art supplies. Would you like that?" Neal was excited; he was dying to see how good Damon was. He remembered Sue Ann was pretty good and she would have taught him.

"No! I don't want to paint!" He didn't exactly yell, but it was a firm, definite no. He still didn't know why his mother died, but they took Stephen's paintings, what if it was because of the paintings… He wouldn't paint.

Neal was obviously disappointed. He regrouped. "Well, let's play some chess. And don't you dare hold back on me this time!" He smiled.

Damon saw Neal was disappointed about the paintings, so he quickly agreed to a game of chess. He knew Neal would most likely give him the white, he could control the white. Neal did not know that he held back.

***WC***

On the two week anniversary of Damon's explosion into their lives, Damon approached Peter at his desk. "Can I go to the library?"

Peter sat back and studied him; he had not seen the 'rabbit' since the Quantico visit, the boy was adjusting. He knew Damon wasn't lying, Stephen had loved the library. Hughes had started complaining about the boy's constant presence, saying they weren't a baby-sitting agency, and school was a couple weeks away. He also knew the boy had to be going stir crazy, he would have been at his age. "Let me work some details out." Damon looked disappointed. "I'm not saying no, I'm saying I have to work it out. Okay?"

"Okay, Sir." But he still looked disappointed and went to look for Neal. He has had the run of White Collar since the Quantico visit, but he noticed agents always watched him to make sure he didn't get too near the doors. Maybe Neal could cheer him up.

Neal and Damon were getting along better. He was starting to like Neal. When he opened up to Peter; well, also himself; about his resentment on his mother's love issues, it went a long ways toward the healing. And Neal was teaching him some cool things. When he asked Neal to help him learn how to pick pockets better, Neal balked and told him Peter would send him back to prison if he taught him how. Damon explained he already knew **how**, he'd done it plenty of times; he just wanted to be better. Neal figured since he already knew how, then improving his skills so he didn't get caught… well… that should be okay…. They practiced when no one was looking. Neal taught him lots of interesting things when they were out of sight of others.

And Neal did enjoy teaching Damon. He was a natural. It was in his blood.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer:** White Collar belongs to USA Network and Jeff Eastin. Criminal Minds is the property of CBS, the actors, producers, and writers of the show.

**Claimer:** Damon is mine.

**DAMON 14**

*** And Neal did enjoy teaching Damon. He was a natural. It was in his blood. ***

The next morning, Peter called Damon into his office and tossed a watch on the desk. "Put it on." It was a common cheap watch with a small band for Damon's small wrist. Peter did not think the watches they used for Neal would work. He did not want the boy 'rolled' for his watch. Damon put it on. Since Damon was under White Collar's protection he qualified for it. Neal was walking by the office as Peter started explaining the watch to Damon, so he stepped in to listen.

He held Damon's wrist and tapped the watch with his pointing finger as he talked, "Damon, this watch has a GPS tracking device installed. If you are taken…" or worse, he thought "we can find you through this watch. And this button…" he showed Damon the button "when you push it, it will activate an alarm in Agents' Jones, Berrigan, and my phones. Plus, it will turn on a voice transmitter so we can hear all that is around you. Do you understand what I am saying?" Damon said he did. He released Damon's wrist. "Okay, now push the button so you can know how it works."

Damon did as instructed and Peter's phone started a shrill alarm. He heard the same alarm on the bottom floor and glanced out the office. Jones and Diana were looking up at them.

Peter's instruction went on, "Now talk."

"About what?" He heard his words come out of the receiver Agent Burke had set up in his office for the demonstration.

Peter got serious. "Damon, this alarm is for emergency and emergency only. Once you push it, Jones Diana and I will be moving to your location. We will be calling in backup. A surveillance van with receiving equipment like this" He pointed to the unit, "will immediately be dispatched. This is not a game. Do you understand me?"

Damon was just as serious. "Yes Sir." He liked the watch. He liked the safety it gave him. He liked knowing Agent Burke would save him if… if….

Peter sat back. "Are there any questions?"

"No Sir." But then he glanced back at Neal, a small mischievous grin on his face. "Now he's got us both on GPS!"

Neal laughed, "Of course, we're both in his custody!" Damon fought hard not to laugh.

Peter did not see the humor.

Peter went on. "Here take this." He handed Damon a new model 'smart' phone. Damon took it and looked up, shocked. A smart phone! He'd only dreamed of having one. "El's, Neal's, my team and my phone numbers are already programmed into the phone. You have unlimited minutes, texting and online. If I call you Damon, you'd better answer." He didn't mention the phone also had a GPS device installed that could not be turned off when the phone was turned off. Yes, it was redundant, but Peter wanted to make sure the boy was safe. Peter was worried about Damon being out in the streets.

Damon's heart almost stopped, unlimited online! "Yes Sir!"

"Now, look at me." Damon did. "If I let you go to the library, do you promise not to run?"

Damon shook his head, dead serious. "No Sir, I can't promise you that."

Peter sat back, shocked. What had he missed? The boy was doing so well.

Another mischievous grin, this time directed at Peter. "I promise I won't run away. But I will run all the way to the library!"

Peter pretended to growl, "Get out of here! And be back by noon sharp."

"But that's only a couple hours…" Peter frowned; Damon sprinted, and then came to a dead halt halfway down the stairs. "Agent Burke! Sir!"

"Now what?"

"Can you call them off?"

Peter got up to see what the problem was. Two agents had seen Damon running with his eyes intent on the door, and had moved to intercept him. Peter chuckled and told them it was Okay, let him pass. Damon did, on the run.

Damon was ecstatic. He was going to the library, he had a smart phone, he was running, and he had Agent Burke's protection through the watch! It had been a long time since he felt this good.

The library was en route between the FBI office and the Burkes home. Damon had been eyeing it for a while. He was from a small town with a small library, but this one was huge. He could not imagine the knowledge hidden in there. He wanted the knowledge, he yearned for it.

He explored inside, mouth agape at the rows and rows and rows of books. When he reached the reference section he walked along the shelves reading the titles and touching the books, dreaming about what's inside. He didn't dare read one, he was afraid he might lose track of time. He did not want to be late, he wanted Agent Burke to trust him so could go again. When leaving time was getting close he wandered over to the librarian's desk to get the paperwork for a library card. Then he looked around. He found the agent that had followed him to the library reading a magazine. He walked around and passed behind him. As he passed him he leaned in and said, "I hope you're done with your article, I'm leaving now." and continued on. He didn't mind being followed; it was just proof that Agent Burke would keep him safe. He ran all the way back to White Collar.

He stormed through the doors with a minute to spare and ran up to Peter's office to report in. With a smile, not a big one, but a start, he placed the paperwork on Peter's desk and asked if he would sign it so he could obtain a library card. Peter signed; anything to keep that smile.

Within a couple days, Damon cajoled Peter to let him stay until 1:00 PM; after a couple more days, it became an all-day thing. Damon got to spend his last week before school on his own all day. His mornings were spent in the library, his afternoons exploring. Peter gave him lunch money, but he didn't care about food so he used it at the hustlers' tables. He didn't do the con himself, he watched for the con. He could follow the 'lady' or pea or whatever hustle it was and win, as long as they played on the up and up. It was observing the con to see when he's going to make his play so you can get out on time. It was a challenge he enjoyed, and he did win more then he lost.

***WC***

During that last week of summer the subject of school was brought up in the Burke home. Damon informed them he was not going to school. He did home study. Peter really believed Damon needed to go to school. He needed to socialize with children his age. He needed the structure and the environment. Damon's education level was in question. He was in the sixth grade when his mother died so should be in seventh grade, but he had missed the last half of the year. Peter and Elizabeth decided to put him in seventh grade and that if he had any trouble, they would hire a private tutor to catch him up.

This was all discussed in front of Damon and he said again, "I am not going to school."

"Yes you are." Peter said this with such a sense of 'this will happen, end of subject' that Damon dropped the conversation and went to read a book. Peter missed the same sense of finality in Damon's voice.

The first day of school Peter took Damon. Damon said he could take care of himself, but it was first day in a new school and Peter thought he should. He had no idea how packed a school was during pick-up/drop-off times. He was thankful Damon said he could check in by himself because he was running late thanks to the school crowd.

Damon watched Peter leave, then circled around to the back of the school lot, found the hidey hole he had scoped out the week before; made sure all was clear and then deftly slipped his watch off into the hole. He didn't have to worry about his phone giving him away, it was at home. You can't have them in school. He then ran to the library to make sure he was safely tucked inside, far in the back reference area, before school started and the truant officers came out. At lunch, during that short time children are seen on the streets, he slipped out of the library and went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Once he got to the Met, he wasn't worried; truant officers don't hang around there. What kind of kid would play hooky to go to the Met? Ages 12 and under had free admission, so he slipped in beside a couple and acted like he was with them until he got inside. He enjoyed his first day of school!

Every night Peter would ask how school was. He said 'fine', or 'okay'. Peter would ask him if he learned anything, he said 'yes'. Peter would ask what he learned. He would name two or three subjects. Damon didn't seem to want to talk about school; Peter thought it was because he was still pissed about being made to go, and that he would get over it as soon as he started making friends. Peter occasionally checked the watch GPS and saw that he was at school.

It took about a month for Damon to get caught.

***WC***

The truancy officer had a tight grip on Damon's arm. The same officer had caught him a couple weeks ago and Damon had cried about how he'd missed the bus and daddy was going to beat him; he had real tears flowing. The officer had turned his back on Damon for just a second to answer the radio, when he turned around, Damon had disappeared. This time he was not giving Damon any slack. He pushed him into the back of his patrol car. Damon was begging to use his cell phone so he could call his dad. The officer laughed and asked if it was the same one that beat him. Damon was getting desperate; he did not want them to put him into the system or have his fingerprints run. The killers would find him. His pleadings for the use of the cell phone finally got through and he handed Damon his phone.

Neal's phone rang. "Dad?"

Neal knew immediately something was wrong. There is no way Damon is going to call him dad. "What's wrong?"

"Can you come get me?"

"Why and where?"

"Truancy." And then he named the precinct.

As soon as Damon told him where the officer, who was listening in, yelled "And if you don't have the same last name, you better bring proof he's yours!" He's had more than one Damon in his precinct.

Damon didn't tell Neal that, he was hoping their looks would work. He did say "Hurry, you know…"

And yes, Neal did know he had to hurry, he also heard what the officer had said. The precinct was outside his two miles radius. _What was Damon doing up there?_ Neal did not like what he had to do, but speed was of the essence and he had no choice. Besides, it was just one day of hooky; it couldn't make Peter that mad. He reluctantly went to Peter's office and told him.

On the way to the precinct, Peter called the school and was informed Damon had never been to school. Since he had never attended, they never noticed he was absent.


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer:** White Collar belongs to USA Network and Jeff Eastin. Criminal Minds is the property of CBS, the actors, producers, and writers of the show.

**Claimer:** Damon is mine.

**DAMON 15**

*** On the way to the precinct, Peter called the school and was informed Damon had never been to school. Since he had never attended, they never noticed he was absent. ***

The same truancy officer that had detained Damon also removed him from his holding area to take him up front for release. As they approached the waiting room Damon tried to spot Neal. He saw.…

He tried to back up and go back to holding. The officer tightened his grip on his arm, "Ah, not the one you called, is it?" He pulled Damon forward. "Here he is Agent. I'd keep an eye on this one!" Peter had had to show his badge and credentials to prevent Damon's info from being entered into their database.

Peter got a firm grip on Damon's free arm before the officer released his hold, Damon didn't have a chance. "Sir…" Damon started.

Peter tightened his grip enough to hurt, he was furious, "If I were you, I wouldn't say anything right now." he snarled. Damon shut up. Peter proceeded to guide (pull) him to the car and demanded he get in. As they started to drive away, Peter noticed Damon's empty wrist and grabbed it. "Where's the watch!"

"A… a… at the school…"

Peter drove by the school and waited while Damon retrieved the watch. When he got back in the car, Peter growled, "Put it on." Damon did.

They rode the rest of the way home in silence. Damon could feel the anger pouring off Peter. Once home Damon was ordered out of the car and then upstairs. Peter followed him to his room and closed the door behind him.

Damon turned to face him and everything went into slow motion: Peter starting to pull off his belt, Damon, his face draining of color, backing towards the wall. Damon's mind was reeling, for the first time in a long time; the need to run was overpowering him. He looked at the door, the mountain was between him and the door, he considered the window, running and crashing to the ground below, but he knew if he survived, Agent Burke would have him. He had never been whipped in his life, his hand slapped a couple times as a toddler to teach him to avoid stoves or light sockets, even beat up a few times during his life in the streets, but never, ever whipped. He was white; he was starting to shake… His back reached the wall.…

"Hi boys! I'm home!"

Peter froze with his belt half out.

"Peter, where are you?"

Peter's face was still filled with anger as he spat out in harsh, clipped words pointing to Damon, "You stay in this" He pointed to the floor, "room until I get back! Is that understood?"

Damon was incapable of speech; he was barely able to nod his head.

Peter left, slamming the door. Damon slid down the wall to a sitting position on the floor, drawing his knees in tight.

***WC***

Peter went unto the dining room and started pacing like a caged beast while running his hands through his hair. El took one look and asked, "What's Neal done now?"

Peter shouted, "It's not Neal, its Damon! He has not gone to school even one day!"

El grabbed two beers quickly and motioned for Peter to sit down. "Well, he did say he would not go…"

"We discussed the reasons he should go!" He took a gulp and slammed the beer down.

El cringed about the beer slamming on her table, but decided it was best not to mention it. "No Peter, you discussed it, he didn't." He glanced at her. "Peter, did you ever ask him why he did not want to go to school?"

"El, he took off his tracking watch to cover his playing hooky!" That really scared Peter. What if something had happened to him, what if he had disappeared?

"Peter, I know he loves the security that watch gives him. If he took it off to avoid going to school, there must be a reason he doesn't want to go. Maybe we should put him in this home schooling thing."

"What, and let him think he can get his way whenever he wants it!"

El rubbed Peter's arm, trying to calm him. "No, Hon. But you need to understand why he did what he did, and then decide on a proper form of discipline for his actions."

Peter groaned, "El, I almost took my belt to him.… I came this close." He help his fingers a fraction of an inch apart. "If you hadn't come home when you did.…" He put his head in his hands.

"Peter, first rule of parenting; never discipline a child when you are angry."

Peter looked contrite. "Guess I should have sent him to his room while I cooled off downstairs, huh?"

El firmly responded, "Yes."

Peter sighed and looked at El, his voice of reason. "OK Hon, what do we do? How do we handle this?"

"Well, what would your father have done?"

"He would have whipped me and sent me to bed without supper!"

"Well, we are not sending him to bed without supper." El responded. They had taken him to a doctor shortly after gaining custody and, although the doctor could find no physical damage as a result of his six months of malnourishment, he recommended they maintain a highly nutritious diet to counteract any possible ill effects.

"And I am not going to whip him. Not him, not after all he's been through. I can't believe how close I came."

"Well," El said "Let's problem solve. How about physical labor? He can do the dishes and other chores around the house."

Peter chuckled, "He enjoys helping you around the house. He volunteers half the time anyway, that's no punishment."

El got a crafty look, "There's always the basement.…"

Peter's brow furrowed, he looked confused, "The basement? You want to lock him in the basement?"

She playfully slapped his arm, "No, silly! Clean the basement!"

Peter's eyes lit with understanding. Maybe she would quit bugging him… "But El, that would take weeks, or more."

"Not the whole thing. Give him a time period. At least I'd get some of it clean. And I'm sure this is not going to be the only time he gets in trouble. Maybe I'll have a clean basement by the time he's grown up!"

El got up and announced she would find something to do while Peter took care of the problem. Peter planned his approach.

***WC***

Peter was still irritated, but it was controlled now. He called from the bottom of the staircase. "Damon! Get down here!"

Damon rose from his spot on the wall. He had used this time to pull himself together. He obeyed the command.

Peter was sitting at the dining room table, his chair sideways to the table. He had turned another chair sideways facing him. He commanded Damon to sit. Damon sat, he immediately noticed the chairs were close enough that his knees were slightly inside Agent Burke's thwarting any escape sideways, the chair back prevented any backward movement, there was no table between them to offer protection, and he had to look up to look at the tall man. It was an intimidating position, and that was Peter's intent.

"You lied to me."

Damon looked up at him straight in the eye, "I did not. I said I was not going to school, and I didn't."

Peter was surprised at what he saw in Damon's eyes. The boy was scared, yes, but he had that under control. What Peter saw most was determination, the boy was going to stand his ground no matter what the cost. Even when seated in this intimidating position, he was standing his ground. Peter admired the boy's spirit.

"I asked you every day how school was, and you said fine."

"I went by the school every day after school and looked at it. It was fine."

"I asked you every day if you had learned something and what it was."

"Every day I went to the library and I told you what subjects I had studied."

His replies reminded Peter too much of how Neal could twist the truth. "You gave us the impression that you were going to school!"

"You assumed I was going to school."

"You took off your watch!"

He got Damon with that one. Damon dropped his gaze, looking instead at and gently fondling his watch with his right hand, "I'm sorry."

"Damon that watch is to help keep you safe. What if something had happened to you?

"I know. It's just I… I…." He sat up straight and again looked Peter in the eye, "I'm not going to school."

"Why not, Damon? Why can't you go to school?"

"Because… because… " He didn't want to admit it, but he didn't know what else to say. "There's nothing they can teach me. "

"Of course there is Damon, you haven't been to the seventh grade."

"I… I… already know." He looked back up. "Why should I waste seven hours of my day learning what I already know, when I can go to the library and learn something new?"

Peter thought, well he does spend a lot of time reading, maybe… "Okay Damon. How about we see if they will give you a proficiency test or something to see if you qualify for the eighth grade?"

"NO!"

Peter was a little taken aback by his outburst. "Why not?"

Damon was getting apprehensive, Agent Burke was pushing too far, he wanted to hide it, but he was making him admit it… "Eighth grade would waste my time too."

Peter studied him, there was no sign of lying; the kid believed what he was saying but it made so sense. Damon had a 101 IQ. Normal. How could he be that far ahead? How could he know he was that far ahead? The numbers weren't adding up. He was a mathematician, and he did not like it when the numbers did not add up. He played it from the gut, his gut was usually right. He stood up and walked over to the book shelf, and called Damon over to him.

"Damon, I am going to ask you some questions, and I want no lying."

Damon was immediately suspicious, "Yes, Sir."

"No twisting of the truth."

That made Damon uneasy, "Yes, Sir."

"And no hiding, no holding back."

Now Damon was even more nervous. "Yes, Sir…"

Peter reached for one of his legal reference books. Damon wanted to run but Agent Burke's eyes held his like headlights hold the deer's. He opened the book. "What is 'Exigent Circumstances'?"

Damon froze, Agent Burke knew! They locked eyes for several seconds. "Do I have to?"

"If you want to give me a good reason not to send you to school, yes."

"Do you want me to quote it, or do you want my interpretation?"

"Both."

Damon proceeded to recite it straight out of the text. When he finished that, he gave his interpretation of the law.

Peter noted that his interpretation was from a child's view point, but it was basically correct. He selected another book, asked another question, and received the answers.

On the forth question, Damon hesitated. "I don't know that one."

Peter looked at him questionably; he had seen Damon 'read' that book.

Damon tried to explain. "I… He…" he sighed "was trained to 'read, analyze, understand, and then remember'. Every step must be taken in order. I… I didn't understand that one so I can't remember it."

"What didn't you understand?"

Damon stepped forward and Peter turned the book to him. He showed Peter the phrase that had eluded him. Peter explained it to Damon. Damon's face lit as understanding dawned on him, he did love to learn, and then he stepped back and did his recital, interpretation ritual. He looked happy until he realized what he had done, and that he was still in trouble.

Peter speculated. His hunch had played out, his gut was right. But why? "Damon, why do you hide it?"

Damon squirmed, "Hide what?"

"How smart you are."

"I'm not smart! I'm just like everyone else! I was just trained different! Anyone could remember like I do if they were trained like me!" Damon was adamant.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer:** White Collar belongs to USA Network and Jeff Eastin. Criminal Minds is the property of CBS, the actors, producers, and writers of the show.

**Claimer:** Damon is mine.

**DAMON 16**

*** "I'm not smart! I'm just like everyone else! I was just trained different! Anyone could remember like I do if they were trained like me!" Damon was adamant. ***

Peter didn't think so. He thought Damon was only fooling himself.

Peter motioned Damon back to the 'hot' seat and they both sat back down. Peter sat and watched Damon a couple of minutes, Damon fidgeted under the scrutiny. Finally Peter spoke up, "Okay Damon, we'll sign you up for home school. What grade do you think you qualify for?" He had to ask, he had no idea anymore.

"Seventh."

"You just told me you know everything in that grade!"

"But it just takes a couple minutes to do the work, and then I can learn what I want to."

"Why? Why stay in the seventh?"

"Because no one will notice me if I do."

Then Peter remembered something about the rich lady who tried to take him from his mother. Has he been hiding his intelligence since then? He was going to have to call Gideon.

"Okay Damon we'll sign you up for the seventh grade, for now." He changed the subject, "Now about your actions. You know what you did was wrong, skipping school like that."

"I understand why you think it was wrong."

Peter tilted his head. "It **was** wrong Damon. And there are penalties for your actions." Damon flinched but sat up straight, accepting his fate. He was willing to pay the price to obtain what he desired.

"You have a one week punishment. Mornings will be spent at the library, I won't deny your learning, but you leave at noon and go home. You will eat lunch, at 1:00 pm sharp you will start working in the basement. I will take you down later and show you what I expect. Before supper you will shower, I expect you to be quite dirty and sweaty from your labors. After supper you will do all the clean-up with no help from El. And you will also do whatever other household work El assigns you to. On the weekend, it's and all day deal, with a 12 – 1 lunch break. Oh, and your walking chore with Satch," Damon has had that chore for over a month, except for the clean-up, he loved it. "will be done in minimum time for Satch to take care of business. No running and playing as you love to do. Any questions?"

Damon groaned inside. All his free time, all the good stuff was taken away for one week! No, he thought, it's worth the price… "No Sir."

"And Damon, I will call the house to make sure you are here, it is your best interests to answer the phone. Now go, enjoy your last night of freedom before your sentence begins." Peter checked his watch, he thought it might not be too late to call Gideon and went upstairs to the sitting room off his and El's bedroom.

Damon went into the kitchen and offered to help El.

***WC***

Gideon was available to talk. Peter told him about his recitation experience with Damon. Gideon said it didn't really surprise him.

"But Jason, it doesn't make sense, if he has that kind of memory, wouldn't he have scored higher on his IQ test?"

"He took two tests, remember?"

"Yes, but on the second one, he was mad and I think he must have missed answers on purpose." Peter paused, "You don't think that at six he was intelligent enough to 'dumb down' on the first test do you?"

"It has crossed my mind. He did not want to be taken away from his mother."

"How intelligent do you think he is?"

"I don't know." Gideon paused. "But Peter, no matter how smart he is; remember emotionally he is only twelve. It takes time and experience to mature, and although he has had some unusual life experiences that have caused him to mature faster in some ways, in other ways, they have stunted his growth. Don't let his brains get in the way of you nurturing the child in him."

They ended their conversation, and said their goodbyes and hung up.

Peter returned downstairs and found Damon helping El. "Damon, you know this doesn't count. Your sentence does not start until tomorrow."

"I know Sir. I just wanted to help." He was trying to get back in their good graces. And being of Caffrey blood, he knew how.

***WC***

Damon worked hard in the basement, which he started referring to as the 'dungeon'. And El, knowing he needed to be taught his lesson, did find extra household work for him to do, but not too hard, she does have a kind heart. He went to bed every night tired and worn out, muscles aching. He slept deeply every night, but that was no longer a problem, Satch guarded his sleep. He never had to read to get back to sleep anymore, just roll over and hug Satch and go peacefully back to slumber. Sometimes he didn't even know Satch woke him. Satch was good at his job and he took it serious. He was a good dog and he loved his boy. Peter was impressed by all that Damon accomplished in the basement, much more than he had expected.

On the sixth day of Damon's sentence, Peter called him upstairs when he got home from work.

"Damon, go take a shower and get cleaned up. I've got another job for you this evening."

Damon didn't mind getting a break from the dungeon, but Damon, always suspicious, "What, Sir?"

"Go clean up and I'll tell you." Damon did as he was told.

When Damon came back down, he saw Peter had two chairs set up in front of the computer. Peter motioned for him to sit in one, Peter sat in the other. "Now, before you interrupt, let me explain." Peter started. "There are some sample tests…" Damon started to protest, Peter held up a finger, cautioning him, "I want you to take. We know you are at grade level, but everything above you, you have been self-studying for a long time. No one has been monitoring which subjects you've studied. Maybe there are some you are barely keeping up with."

Damon was getting edgy; he didn't see the purpose for this.

"Damon, do you want to go to college some day?" He remembered his conversation on the way back from Quantico.

"Well… yes…" Damon didn't think there was much chance of that happening. Once his case was settled he would be sent to CPS or go back to the streets, neither one of which was college conducive.

"Then we have to make sure you study all subjects needed to enter college. We need to have an idea what to concentrate on." And Peter really wanted some idea on how intelligent Damon really was.

"But… but… I don't want… "

Peter knew where he was going, He knew Damon like to hide things. Was that a Caffrey trait? Neal hides a lot. "I found a site with GED self-assessment modules and the answers are right there, self-grading. Nothing goes online. And a practice GED test that will be in my name, not yours, so no one but us will know you took it." Peter thought a GED might be a little much, but if the kid thought he knew enough for eighth grade; then maybe he knew a lot in ninth, and that would put him close to if not into a high school level.

Damon looked at him cynically, "How is that a cover? Why would you take a GED? You've already graduated college!"

Peter snickered "If I'm ever asked, I'll just say I had a couple beers too many and got inane. People do weird stuff online all the time."

Damon was still hesitant, but he was also curious how good he would do….

Peter continued, trying to get Damon's cooperation. "Damon, this is to help you." Then he leaned back crossing his arms and said half-jokingly, "Besides, you are still serving your sentence, you're on my time. If you cooperate fully, maybe I'll let you off a day early on good behavior."

Damon gave him a sideways glimpse; he would like to be released a day early! "No one will know?"

"No one but us."

"Okay, I'll try."

Peter was thankful he'd finally gotten through, but one more thing, he took Damon by the chin so he couldn't look away. "Damon, you have to do your best, no holding back, no hiding. Deal?"

Damon exhaled, "Yes Sir."

***WC***

When they were done, Peter released Damon from his 'work detail' and Damon happily took off to take a long walk/run with Satchmo. Peter sat back to evaluate his findings.

The GED consists of 5 different tests, the modules had 30 different sections to break down the GED so one could evaluate in which areas one needed improvement. To Peter's surprise, Damon not only passed, but aced all science, social studies and reading sections. Peter watched him take the test and Damon would have the answer on those subjects before Peter could finish reading the question. Damon did fairly decent in the writing and passed the math sections. The modules showed Peter were his weaknesses were. He figured the main problem on the writing was he'd never written anything, only read, he had no experience writing. Math was his weak point. Peter had watched him do basic math in his head, even when it was hard problems, he did adding, subtracting, and even most multiplying and dividing in his head. It was equations that got him. He could do simple ones, but as soon as they started getting complicated, he lost focus.

But he passed. He passed the GED. Yes, it was just a practice test, but he passed it. Peter was surprised.

He would discuss his findings with El and they would plan a course of action.

***WC***

The next evening a meeting was called around the dining room table and Peter started. "Damon, we have analyzed your weak points in your studies and we are going to help you improve."

Damon frowned…. _What was going on_….

El spoke up. "I am going to help you with your writing skills. I have background in the language arts and a minor in literature. We know you have read very little literature, if any, and I am going to assign books for you to read and write reports on."

"But literature is fiction. I'm not allowed to read fiction unless it's a home study assignment."

El gave him a stern smile, "Damon this is for home study and I am your instructor. Besides, your mother said you could not read fiction until you were older, old enough to understand. I think you are old enough and she would have no problems with you reading fiction now."

"Yes Ma'am."

Now it was Peter's turn. "Damon, I'm curious. I understand about your writing skills not being as high as the others, but why is math your lowest?

Damon grimaced at him. "Have you read a math book? They are boooooring!"

"In fact, I have read a few. I will be your math instructor."

Damon scornfully replied, "But you're an agent, you don't know anything about math!"

Peter laughed, "I was a mathematician before I became an agent. Math was my major. Give El and I a couple days to get our curriculum together, and you my boy, are going to start some serious home schooling!"

Damon dropped his head to his hands on the table, shaking it back and forth, moaning in desperation of life's fate. But this was the action of a playful twelve year old who just wanted to give the adults a hard time on principle and not because he really minded their actions.

Both El and Peter laughed and rubbing his head exclaimed "Awww! Poor boy!"

***WC***

**AN: DAMON became longer then I had ever dreamed it would. I have chosen to continue his story in DAMON II.**

**If you enjoyed this story, a review would be nice! I want to thank all of you who have read and followed Damon's story.**


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